


Red City

by TimmyJaybird



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mentions of dub-con, Omegaverse, a/b/o dynamics, canon style violence, mentions of drug use, mentions of mpreg, past self harm, sex trafficking/prostitution, the food is definitely people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-06 22:48:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1875384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They met by happenstance- he smelled like a muted sweetness that drove a fire into Hannibal's blood. Or perhaps it was the way the boy didn't flinch, despite the body Hannibal had his hands on. Perhaps even it was something in those stormy eyes, that told a story of forced silence.</p><p>Whatever it was, Hannibal was intrigued by this boy, but he could not foresee just how quickly Will would get under his skin, sink into his pores and cling like a tattoo. He couldn't know the trauma that clung to him like an ashen shadow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One: Suspended by a Thread

**Author's Note:**

> My first adventure into Omegaverse! I've finally broken, and I can see and understand the hype now. This fic is actually somewhat set to Stone Sour's [Red City](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JuxUVgcob_Y), and I suggest giving it a listen at least once :)
> 
> The fic is actually complete, and part two will be uploaded this Wednesday (the 2nd) around 9 PM EDT, and the 3rd will be up Friday (the 4th) sometime probably in the afternoon.
> 
> A big thanks to Hannigramcracker for Beta'ing my ideas as I wrote this, and making sure it wasn't _too_ confusing.

_” Until the pages of this book are filled with emptiness_  
I'm still suspended by a thread  
Expecting nothing less  
I feel my kindred little ways  
I know how my story ends.”  
“Red City” – Stone Sour 

The latex on Hannibal’s hands were tight, clinging like a fresh coat of skin. He flexed his hands, moved his fingers as if they swam through liquid, before quietly opening his car door. It as well after midnight, and the isolated home nestled outside Baltimore appeared quiet, from his stand point. He inhaled the fresh air, cool in late Autumn, sweet with the beginnings of decay for winter. But still alive.

He held a small cooler in one hand as he walked around the house. He knew, from experience, there was a lovely porch out looking the expanse of land Howard owned, had owned for many years ever since his father passed at a young age. Hannibal, every time he heard the _tragic_ tale, was convinced the man had had a little help in slipping from one plane of existence to the next.

Hannibal climbed the few steps to the porch, found the back door unlocked- which he had not expected. Howard often left it unlocked when he had company, and Hannibal wondered if the man was simply growing lazy, or if his body count would, by necessity, be higher than expected this evening. _No matter_.

The Alpha stepped inside, closing the door carefully behind him, heard rummaging around within the first floor. Off towards what Hannibal remembered was the kitchen, from the evenings he had spent among company in this home. Howard went back as a social acquaintance of about three years, now, and Hannibal could not fathom it had taken him this long to grow so utterly _bored_ of him. He was older than Hannibal, by a few years, but preferred the actions of a teenager, a boasting, loud attitude that grated against Hannibal’s bones in _exactly_ the wrong way.

Truth be told, the man was down right _rude_.

He made his way through the dining room, the plastic over his shoes making soft, crinkling noises that seemed to go unnoticed. He felt cocooned within his plastic suit, covering the rich fabric of his suit, a layer of reality he donned when he shed his flesh mask and allowed the beast inside a breath of air. The suit meant power, meant control- meant blood and a satiated hunger.

Hannibal stood in the doorway to the kitchen, watched idoly as Howard shuffled about, back to him, undressed down to his boxers and a t-shirt. He was mixing something, though Hannibal could not see what. He presumed a drink, and wondered if this was a part of the man’s nightly routine. Hours spent awake drinking in whatever horrid way he chose to spend his evenings.

Hannibal set his cooler down, quietly, and made it half way into the kitchen when Howard turned, staring right at him for a moment, before he grinned suddenly. “Lecter,” he slurred, raising up a hand in greeting. He sounded drunk, and Hannibal could smell the alcohol on the man, along with a mixing of other things- toxic substances that made him grimace. Lingering in with the other Alpha’s pheromones was something else, a sweet scent that Hannibal felt was out of place.

If the man had any shock at seeing Hannibal in his plastic suit- or even seeing him at all- he didn’t show it. His eyes told Hannibal the man was strung out, heavily, eyes red and pupils blown. His tense smile told the same story.

Hannibal huffed a sigh, closing the distance and reaching for Howard. He grabbed him, jerking the pudgy man close as he grasped his face, sinking a gloved hand into his hair. Howard thrashed once, dropped the glass so it shattered on the floor, and Hannibal gritted his teeth and jerked his arms, snapping the man’s neck with little effort. Howard went limp, and carefully Hannibal lowered himself to the floor, guiding the body down and laying it out before him. He studied him, for a moment, contemplating if there was any point in harvesting him now- he had no idea what was in his system, and what it may have done to the _meat_.

Hannibal inhaled, through his nose, meant to calm himself with it, instead felt his body going tense. The alpha inhaled again, smelled that sweetness in the air again, clearer now, mingling with pheromones that he could taste on his tongue, the roof of his mouth. He turned, looked behind him, saw the source, arms folded over his chest, leaning against the frame of the doorway, watching. Simply watching.

If he was startled, he didn’t show it. The only way Hannibal knew the man held any fear was from his scent, the tinge at the end that indicated his blood ran with a thread of shock, a gentle hint of terror.

And suddenly, the sweetness made sense. _An Omega_.

“You made a mess.”

His voice was dry, and Hannibal was struck with the sudden desire to laugh. He stayed in his position on the floor, however, silent, as the man straightened up, looked down at the small cooler Hannibal had left and raised his eyebrows. He snatched it up by the handle, then crossed the room, setting it down.

“Probably need that.”

This time a faint smile quirked in the corners of Hannibal’s mouth.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” He opened the cooler, dug out his scalpel, deciding he would give the meat a chance. At the flash of metal suddenly in Hannibal’s hand, the Omega still didn’t flinch. _Peculiar creature_. Hannibal inclined his head, smelled the alcohol that coated the floor, the shattered glass, a bitterness added to it. “He was going to drug you.”

The Omega laughed, a bark that cracked through the stillness of the house, and grinned. It was a wicked thing. “Wouldn’t be the first to try. Never drink the shit the Johns give you, it’s a rule.” The man inhaled, Hannibal watched his nostrils flare as he fully took in his pheromones, watched a shift in his posture as he relaxed his shoulders. “Considering you haven’t tried yet, I assume you’re not going to kill me. How about a little I won’t tell if you won’t?”

The Alpha stood up then, setting the scalpel on the counter. Bare handed except for his film of plastic and latex, he held his hands palm out. A silent assurance that, for the moment, the Omega was in no harm. Hannibal was far too intrigued.

“And what have you got to lose if I were to tell? Beyond a damaged reputation- Howard was never much of a prize, in truth.” Another bark of laughter, this one softer around the edges.

“Plenty to lose if the cops found the drugs in his room and an Omega ready to get paid to let him fuck ‘til dawn.” Hannibal gave a huff of air, almost a laugh, _almost_ , and no longer wondered how Howard had managed to get a pretty thing like this one.

He paid him. Omega trafficking- illegal, but thriving underground. That would explain why Hannibal hadn’t placed the man’s scent right away- it was muddled by a mess of hormone suppressants, to control his pheromones-

And his heat.

“Look, I’m going to go back upstairs, get the money this bastard owes my boss, and then I’m gonna leave. Your call, if you feel like chasing me or just letting me walk. Trust me, I’ve seen plenty of bodies in my years- this isn’t even up there on the list.”

“Not yet,” Hannibal breathed, and eyes that had appeared black but, as Hannibal realized, his own adjusting to the darkness of the unlit kitchen, were grey, speckled blue. Stunning to study. Hannibal wanted to see those pupils expand, had the sudden urge to try to relax the man, use his pheromones to the point of melting the Omega. Instead, he kept himself in check, as he always did.

Yet he couldn’t remember a time when he had suddenly desired this.

The Omega’s mouth pulled into a tight line, before Hannibal inclined his head, towards the doorway. Another breath, and the man turned, hurrying out, a flash of brown curls and color over the flesh of his arms Hannibal hadn’t seen in the dark. The Alpha waited, listened to him climb the stairs, the faint echo of his movements. When he appeared again, rushing down the stairs, his plain grey t-shirt was covered by an open green flannel shirt. He stopped at the foot of the steps, took one final look at Hannibal, eyes flicking along his nose, his chin, and then he was gone- a ghost of memory with the sound of the front door opening and closing.

Hannibal turned, grabbed his scalpel and settled back on the floor, shoving Howard’s shirt up his body and looking at his belly, at flesh that would part like butter and open for him, without question.

Yet all Hannibal could focus on was the lingering sweet scent, the way it clung to his tongue, the way it gave a warmth to his blood he had not felt in his life. Curiosity piqued, he could only wonder where the little Omega had run off to, in the dead of night- and what he had seen, if he found Hannibal so harmless.

Shame that he hadn’t stayed to see the final aftermath of Hannibal’s work. Perhaps, though, for the better.

_Run boy_ Hannibal mused as his scalpel sliced into Howard’s belly, _run_.

*

Will was curled up on his tiny bed, face buried in his pillow as he slept. He could have slept half the day away, would have, too, until there was screaming down the hall, and suddenly muffled words were echoing through his tiny apartment, into his head, making him grimace and thrash about, once, his blankets tangling around his legs. As they continued, elevated, he groaned, pushed himself up and made his way to his door- visible from his bed, and threw it open, standing there in his underwear.

“Shut the _fuck_ up,” he yelled, and the woman, standing in the hallway and yelling at the man who filled her door frame, turned and bared her teeth at Will.

“Fuck off Omega trash.” Will rolled his eyes, was about to retort when something came hurling in his direction, missing Will and hitting the wall in front of him. The bottle shattered, spraying the remains of stale beer and glass around the floor. Will pulled back into his apartment, slamming the door and locking it, using the chain even. He pressed his back to it, tilting his head back and still hearing their screaming.

His hands were trembling, and he cursed himself for that.

_Should be used to it Graham_. He pushed himself off the door, moved into the space that served as a kitchen, even if it all opened as one room. He was lucky to have a closet, and a bathroom not much bigger than said closet. He was lucky he had this much.

There had been many times where he hadn’t been this lucky.

He stripped of his t-shirt, tossing it on the floor and had a change of heart, moving instead into the bathroom, leaving the light off as he showered. The water was cold until half way through, but he ignored it. A minor inconvenience, even if it was often reoccurring.

Once out, Will toweled off, found a pair of clean underwear and slipped into them, then made his way back to the kitchen, tossing open cupboards. With a frown he tried the fridge, and cursed at himself. There wasn’t anything there, a few beers and that was it. He slammed it shut, turning back to the open cupboards and pulling out a glass, filling it with tap water. He took a drink, opening a drawer with one hand and pulling out a small prescription bottle. He set the glass down, popped it open, dumped a pill into his palm and tossed it into his mouth, swallowing it with another gulp of water. Once the glass was empty he walked back towards his bed and the tiny dresser pressed to the wall, rummaging for clothing. He needed to do laundry, he knew. But he didn’t look forward to being outside of his apartment but in the complex that long.

He needed to go grocery shopping too. That experience would be just as bad.

He found a black t-shirt and slipped it on, covering the array of ink on his chest, the bursts of color on his arms. Will had tattoos down both arms, a storm of dark flowers and vibrant moths that spiraled down to his wrists, back up to his shoulders. He’d had the ink for years now, had spent more money on it than anything else-

Aside of his hormone suppressants.

Absent mindedly he rubbed the small, clear patch on his right arm, up by the crease of his elbow. Unless one touched, felt the smooth covering, it was unnoticeable, but he knew it was there. He also knew the punishment if it was removed for any reason other than to make room for its replacement.

Will gritted his teeth, hunting down a pair of jeans and slipping into them. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, huffed because they were empty, and began hunting around his apartment, rummaging through his jeans and collecting the wadded up bills he found inside. He figured he could scrap together enough money for a few meager groceries, for now. He hadn’t gotten his cut from the john last night- and reasoned it should be bigger than usual since he came back with most of the drugs in tack that he’d been delivering, beyond his part in the act.

He shuddered, glad he hadn’t had to let the man fuck him. Will had been doing this for years- the drug running, the selling of his body, but that didn’t make it easier when there was just _no attraction_ to the Alphas who bought him for a night. He sucked it up and worked through it, but getting a night off when he expected to be retching at the memory the following day was nice.

Will grabbed his green flannel shirt again, tossed it on and left it unbuttoned, grabbed his cell phone, and made his way out of his apartment, head down. He reasoned he could do his laundry later.

When Will was forced to walk through the city alone, during regular day light hours, he did so with speed and precision. No matter how many suppressants ran through his system, if anyone stopped long enough to scent him they would know he was an Omega, would taste the sweetness. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing, probably to most Omegas- be they few and far between- but Will had a silent, constant fear of it. He’d been beaten and abused far too much for it, treated like an object.

His arms throbbed, the tender inner flesh, and he fiddled with the sleeves of his shirt. Even with the ink covering them, there were scars that he could never erase, that he knew, could touch, did touch, at night when he needed to remind himself of the reality he was in.

A reality that was, for his lack of better terms, _utter shit_.

*

“Tell me, what do you know of Omega trafficking?”

Alana looked up from the chair she had settled in in Hannibal’s office, a leather folder opened in her lap stacked with papers, and a tall glass of Hannibal’s home-brewed beer sitting on the table to her right. She quirked up an eyebrow, hesitating a moment in case Hannibal chose to add to his question.

He did not.

“I know what we all know, Hannibal,” she offered, “And a little from my experience with victims of it.”

“Enlighten me.” Alana sighed, setting the pen she held in her hand down.

“All I know is that it has been, and always will be, illegal. The trafficking consists of Omegas having their hormones regulated- beyond our typical methods. Often their heats can be induced or entirely staved off, and sold to the highest bidder. Obviously the constant hormone imbalance, or a drastic change from their natural levels for prolonged amounts of time, are detrimental to their health. Most Omegas in the trafficking rings do not live to any sort of respectable age.”

Across from her, Hannibal settled in a chair himself. He took a sip of his wine, held it over his tongue for a moment, before swallowing and asking, “And your experience with the victims?”

“They vary, like any survivor of abuse. Most have drug addictions, issues with self image and their Omega standing. They feel inferior, defensive, and do not want to be seen as what they are. Granted, and you know this of me, I would argue that we have helped to put them in that position, forcing Omegas to feel as if they need such a rigid control over their hormones.”

“My social justice crusader,” Hannibal mused, and Alana laughed.

“They’re precious, that’s how I see Omegas. And if anything, we should be protecting yet exonerating them. Not going into fits when we find one off their suppressants. We have instincts, yes, we react, but we still have control. I will not be convinced otherwise.”

Hannibal said nothing to this, crossed his legs and took another sip of wine. He had, like Alana, been around Omegas who had no suppressants in their systems. And he could agree- there was an allure, of course, and his body reacted accordingly, but never once had he ever stepped out of line because of it. He was, as ever, a pinnacle of self control. It was different, when the Omega was bonded to an Alpha of course, but it was a moot point- he agreed with her, even if he did not openly challenge social normalities in the way Alana did.

“Why are you so curious?” she asked, reaching for her beer and taking a sip.

“Simply something that crossed my mind. You know I always hunger for a new prospect of study, to entertain my mind. Also, I owe you as much as to be interested in your passions.” Alana laughed.

“If you feel indebted to me, Hannibal, you can help me go through these proposals like you said you would. I have papers to grade at home for my class, and yet the university still feels the need to toss PhD candidates at me.”

Hannibal chuckled over this, setting his wine aside and getting up, crossing the room and accepting the papers she handed to him. She smiled at him fondly as he did so, and for a moment, Hannibal allowed his mind to lay to rest the images of his midnight stranger- although his tongue did not forget the taste of his sweet scent.

*

Will had one grocery bag hanging over his wrist as he made his way back towards the apartments, trying to hide behind the wall he felt his glasses gave him. It was colder than he had anticipated, and he wished he’d grabbed a jacket as he suppressed a shiver. Granted, he’d have to make sure he even still had one in decent enough condition. He didn’t want to think about needing to buy a new one for winter- there was no way he had the money.

As it was, he was lucky he’d been able to buy enough food for the next couple of days, it he made sure to eat once, maybe twice. The thought made his belly ache, reminded him he was starving as it was, could probably sit down and eat everything he bought in one day.

He was lost in thought on his hunger when he bumped into a passerby. Will took a stumbling set to the side and the man grumbled at him. Will, out of habit, cast his eyes down and didn’t say anything, waiting on held breath as the man continued on. Will smelled his hormones, an uncaring Beta, but his body still felt tense. He’d had his fair share of Betas too- and while they never left him in the way the Alphas did, they still left a sour taste in his mouth.

Then again, most people did.

Will sighed, reaching his free hand up to rake it through his tussled curls, glancing around to get his bearings, get himself out of his head- a fucked up place, he knew, and one he wasn’t interested in spending too much time in. He had stopped in front of a news stand, and normally, most days, he wouldn’t have given a shit, would have passed on by. He operated in a separate world and only visited this one when he had to.

But this time, this time his eyes managed to fall on a newspaper headline, the words printed in large, bold black, _Chesapeake Ripper Strikes Again_ \- and beneath it, a black and white image of a carefully cut apart body, displayed in a kitchen Will remembered-

He had been there only last night.

He crept closer, slipped between people who were looking through their options for news and general trash reading for the day, and glanced over the paper, mouthing the words to himself- _gutted_ , _splayed on his dinning room table_ -

_Kidneys had been surgically removed and taken from the scene_.

Will inhaled sharply through his nose, taking a shaky step back. He bumped into another person, the stand growing crowded, and pushed past the crowd, without a care then, and took off in a run down the street for his apartment. He didn’t stop even as he reached the building, ducked in the old doors and took the stairs two at a time, to the third floor. His hands were shaking when he unlocked his door, his shoes crunching over the broken glass from the beer bottle that had been his good morning greeting from the world, and they continued to shake, even when he was inside and the door was relocked, the chain up.

Will pressed his back to the door, slid down it until he was sitting on the old, ratty carpet. His bag was forgotten next to him and he reached up, dragging his hands along his face, feeling the stubble on his cheeks and chin, the tangles of his curls.

_The fucking Chesapeake Ripper_. Will couldn’t understand, couldn’t breathe or even think for a moment. He’d stared the Chesapeake Ripper in the face, he’d conversed with him- he’d been wrapped up in the warm embrace of his pheromones and had to force himself to not react, and _god_ it had been so hard. His own were so muddled, so washed out in his body that he had a fairly good grasp over how he reacted around Alphas, but this- it had been hard.

He’d hid behind snark and the dark of the kitchen. He’d thought maybe the damn john had pissed someone off, that was it. Will had seen violence, he’d seen men killed who owed money- who pissed off the wrong guy. He’d exchanged hands like currency, and knew what happened to someone who didn’t pay up in his world.

But to stare into the face of a serial killer- one who the authorities had not even the faintest lead on catching, who had been running around Baltimore for years, so many so Will couldn’t remember when he first heard the name _Chesapeake Ripper_ \- well, Will couldn’t believe he had done it, now. He groaned, reconstructed the man’s face in his head, high cheekbones and dark eyes and a mouth that had drawn his eyes. Will hated eye contact anyway, noses, chins, necks- those were his go-tos. But those lips.

Will shifted, feeling uncomfortable, feeling a heat in his belly, his body responding in ways he wasn’t proud of. He felt slick, and couldn’t remember the last time _thinking_ about someone had given him anything even close to arousal- the last time his body had gotten wet without the forced pheromones of an Alpha to respond to, or his own concentration and will, begging for it so the job wouldn’t hurt- actually, Will wasn’t sure there was a last time. Sex had, for his entire life, been a chore- a job. There wasn’t pleasure in it.

Will sucked on his lower lip. The arousal paired with fear, and he suddenly wanted to move his bed in front of the door. He felt like a trapped, wounded animal- hiding, not wanting the predators to sniff him out, flush him into the open to tear out his throat and finish the job. Will was scared, but that- that too was something he was used to.

_He knows nothing about you_ he told himself, _he saw you in the dark. He smelled you. He knows your work is illegal, but he doesn’t even know your name. He can’t find you_.

He groaned. The thought both comforted and terrified Will.

*

Hannibal sat in his bedroom, well into the night. Outside, the sky was dark, few stars littering its great expanse, the air chilled. Autumn would give way to winter soon, brilliant oranges to a dusty white. The changing seasons were a joy to Hannibal, to watch the way the world shed her skin and embraced a new one. It was poetic.

He had left his room dark as he sat at the edge of his bed, gently moving his hand and filling his space with a sweet string of music. His Theremin gave his mind the precious release it needed- or allowed it to delve into his desires- perhaps a bit of both.

Hannibal had the boy in his mind now, eyes closed within his room. The notes wailed and sang and he imagined this Omega would too. He imagined his pink mouth open for gasps, eyes wide and dilated as he nearly screamed. He was hot, slick, wanting and needing and Hannibal could inhale and taste the organic sweetness of his pheromones- no suppressants locking way the treasure. 

He sighed, halting his hand, allowing it to fall to his lap. His eyes slid open, slowly, revealed the dark shadows of his room in slim patches. Every time he closed his eyes, the man was there, _there and re-configuring so that he was wanting and free_ , and Hannibal felt almost sick with it. He’d never felt infatuated like this, intrigued.

He had no reasoning behind it, no excuse. All he had was a heavy _wanting_.

*

Burning, sharp and hot and piercings straight through him, Will was suspended in utter darkness. He moved, thrashed once, then it came over him, strong and soothing with the fainest heated scent, pheromones that told his body to relax, and he was limp on the bone spikes, antlers stemming up from a forgotten skull rooted in the black beneath him.

Will couldn’t see, but he felt. Felt hands press on his belly, and it felt tender, far more tender than it should, and then a slice and skin parted like butter, hands delved in and pushed around, fishing for organs- but never taking. His insides were caressed, stroked and traced and _learned_ but never severed. And Will, he moaned, wanted to bear himself more for the hands, because the tenderness was something he had never felt.

His eyes snapped open and Will gasped, sitting up. He looked around his dark room, quickly, then tugged on his shirt, clawing it off and tossing it onto the floor. His skin was sticky with sweat, his underwear damp from his excitement. He shifted, and gasped, his body aching suddenly. He flopped back down, pulling his sheet up over him an curling up on himself, closing his eyes.

He’d been plagued with nightmares for years- back when he was young, when he was first taking his steps into the underworld. A side affect of his hormone imbalance- one that he caused. He hated it, but they had, over time, begun to fade. He’d been dealing with them for six years- and at twenty-five, Will thought he was at the point of shoving them under his pillow and going right back to sleep.

But this, this had been different. There wasn’t fear in his belly, but an ache, a spreading sore feeling that thse hands really would make his insides feel perfect. He wanted them, on skin and inside it as well, feeling and exploring and learning and, someday, knowing.

He curled up tighter, began to trace the shapes of the mouths and flowers on one of his inner arms. The feeling of skin was punctured by the risen, rougher feeling of scars, and he traced ones length, then another, another. Old, old as his nightmares, self inflicted and a living reminder of the war Will had faced with himself, with his situation.

They hadn’t been touched in three years. He’d been clean for three years, too. Or, mostly. At first it had been easy to take anything the johns gave him, to slip into a false ecstasy that made the sex easier. But when one finally bought his heat- and the first he had ever truly experienced- everything had changed. The drugs had left him terrified, he’d felt frantic and wanted to crawl out of his skin. The heaviness in his belly had ached, had turned to a knot, and the john had left him sore and soured. He remembered his eyes burning from tears, and his body told him he wanted it, but when it was done he’d been sick, disgusted with himself, with his own biology.

Will had retched until his insides were empty. He hadn’t eaten for days, he’d bled his arms dry until he was sick to death of everything. Then, he had snapped. He kept his arms covered, bandages, tried to heal them, refused the drugs he was offered- stayed aware through every act, no matter how repulsive it was. Aware, because that left him with power.

He told himself no one would buy his heat again. He’d give it or he’d contain his biology until it killed him. He was glad the price was so high, no one had in the past three years even tried. And now, as he lay, stroking the tattoos he had gotten to hide his scars, he was terrified in a way he hadn’t been in a long time.

Terrified because he had never known tenderness, and suddenly dreaming of it in such a violent but longing manifestation left he wanting and hating, confused.

And, as everything in his life, he faced this confusion alone, with no one but his scars and the moths he had permanently painted onto his skin to keep him company.

*

Hannibal chuckled, patting the arm of a gentleman as he stepped out of the opera house, the show still ringing sweetly in his ears. It had been good to step back into his self prescribed role as the fine arts-loving man he was. It had been good to try and put his curiosity over a stranger- a stranger who had seen the face of the Ripper and yet had walked out without so much as a single cut- to rest.

“A shame Dr. Bloom had not joined you,” the gentleman said, “Always a fine pleasure to see her.”

“Alana is keeping herself very busy. I do hope the winter will bring her out more.”

“Perhaps if you grace us with dinner some evening, she can be coerced into our company.” Hannibal laughed and shook the man’s hand, bidding him goodnight with a smile and a promise to consider it. The man walked off and Hannibal tucked his hands into his coat, about to make his way towards his car when he noticed one of his acquaintances crossing the road, in a rather hurried stride, and heading in the opposite direction of their vehicles. Hannibal arched an eyebrow- intrigued, as always- and shrugged to himself, crossing the street and following.

He kept a few paces back, watched her duck between two buildings, into an empty but well kept alley, and peeked down. She was talking to someone, hidden in the shadows, hands touching. Something was passed, a small bottle, and then she was handing off a bundle of bills, her perfectly manicured hands dragging nails along an accepting palm.

Hannibal cocked his head, slightly, intrigued over another social acquaintance seeming to have a need to turn to the underbelly of Baltimore. He had always entertained that most of his _friends_ of this standing were invested in personal drug use, or other forms of entertainment, and seeing that he was right made him smile.

He knew people so well.

He knew them far too well for their own good.

He would have left, in that moment, if that gentle, sweet scent hadn’t reached him then, as he inhaled the chilled autumn air, the sounds of cars streets over driving through streets that had grown damp during the Opera. He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, knew it- knew the subdued flavor and the organic crisp of it. Hannibal pressed himself to the building then, grounding himself, and waited.

His acquaintance was stepping out within two minutes, pulling the collar of his jacket up and walking in the opposite direction from Hannibal- never once noticing him. He had grown quite a talent for becoming a shadow, when he needed to. Never allowing himself to be seen until he was ready-

It made his killing so much easier.

Hannibal pushed himself off the wall, slipped down the alley. He could see him now, unobstructed, leaning against the wall and fidgeting with his jacket, an old grey thing that, as Hannibal grew closer, he could see holes in it, places where it had been worn out beyond repair. A pathetic heap of overly aged cloth, at best.

The Omega must have smelled him- because Hannibal’s footfalls were silent, he knew- because he looked up, body going rigid as he took Hannibal in. His eyes scanned along him, over his face, to his chest, back up, a half once over- and Hannibal could smell fear on him.

“Funny meeting you here, stranger.” He folded his arms, still leaning against the wall- but Hannibal knew it was defensive. The boy was hiding behind his glasses as if they were a wall, and Hannibal knew then that the Omega had put he and the Ripper together. _Fascinating_.

“You seem to know quite a few of my acquaintances.”

“I know a lot of people in this business.” Hannibal moved closer, until he stood right in front of the Omega, watched his body tense. Without much thought, he tried to will him to relax, to soothe him, and suddenly the boy was melting back, arms falling to his sides, staring up at him-

Those blue-grey eyes. Those little storms, and Hannibal was lost in them.

“You know me, now.”

The omega stared, his pretty lips parted, and for a moment didn’t react. Then, as if coming out of a trance, his mouth slowly moved, without words at first- then, “I only know what they call you. I don’t know _you_.”

“And what do they call me?”

He inhaled, and on the exhaled his words tumbled out, “The Chesapeake Ripper.” Hannibal fought down a shudder, reveled in how it felt to have someone look upon his face and _know_ who he was. There was a rush of pride in his chest, swelling out through the cracks of his ribs.

There was a desire to have someone know him, inside and out.

“And does this scare you, little one?” Hannibal asked, pressing closer, reaching one hand out and resting it against the wall, trapping to Omega. “Knowing who I am? And do be honest, I can smell your lies.” Hannibal smiled, wickedly, but the Omega didn’t recoil at it.

“Terrifies me,” he admitted, tilting his head so he could glance up easier at Hannibal. He allowed a moment of eye contact, before his eyes drifted along his face. Hannibal let his breath rush out, loved the scent of fear on him- honest terror, but yet he made no move to escape.

“Tell me your name.”

A moment, then, “Will.” Hannibal nodded. He reached out with his other hand, slipping it in past the man’s tattered jacket, found his waist and held it. The Omega shifted, and Hannibal was pressing closer, transfixed by the scent in his nose, on his tongue, those eyes and the heat that radiated off this boy, the way he didn’t hide his fear but stood in it, stared with it at the source. _Remarkable boy_.

“My name,” he whispered, tilting his head slightly, breathing the words over Will’s lips and feeling his heart beat in the air, his pulse singing through blood and flesh, “is Hannibal.” The Alpha pressed forward then, his mouth covering Will’s, and time stopped then, there was nothing but a warm mouth beneath his, pink lips that gave and allowed him to press in. Hannibal opened his mouth, tilting his head more, and Will was reaching up, clutching at his coat and pulling him closer, clawing at him.

Hannibal pressed flush to him, felt the boy’s mouth open and slipped his tongue past his lips, pressed it along the Omega’s. He shuddered, made a little sound, and Hannibal felt his body aching at his taste, the feel of his mouth, the pheromones wrapping around him and holding him tight. He was smothering the Omega with his own, coaxing his body to want, to accept, and Will wasn’t fighting it, in that moment. Hannibal pulled his tongue back, sucked on Will’s lower lip, pressed the points of his teeth to it, and the boy openly moaned.

Hannibal moved to his neck, pressed his mouth to his pulse and sucked, laved his tongue against the drum of his blood, tormented until he was sure he would leave a pale bruise, a fade of lilac and buttercup blossoms on his sweet skin. Will was still clutching at him, baring his throat, but his mouth was moving, trying to form words, until finally _stop_ came out, a broken whisper.

Hannibal pulled away then, keeping the boy pressed to the wall but lifting his head to stare into his eyes. Wide, frantic, they seemed more terrified now than when he had given the name Chesapeake Ripper to Hannibal. Hannibal stayed pressed to him for another heart beat, took in his warmth for just another moment, and then stepped back, giving Will room to move.

“I...I need to go,” Will whispered, casting his eyes down to the knot of Hannibal’s tie. “Places to be. Things to deliver.” He pulled his jacket around him, as if he was cold and exposed, and Hannibal felt a pull in his chest at seeing the broken piece of clothing fail to give him any warmth. He could only nod, and Will pushed off the wall, took one step from Hannibal, then stopped. He turned on his heel and leaned into the man again, pressing his mouth to his one last time, reaching up and tangling his hand in Hannibal’s perfectly kept hair. He tugged, pressed his tongue to the points of Hannibal’s teeth, took for just a moment and then pulled back before Hannibal could grab him.

Will took off in a run, away from him, and Hannibal watched him go, before reaching up, pressing his fingers to his lips. His skin felt as if it were electric, pulsing and full of static. He was drunk on Will’s taste, his pheromones, and knew in that moment he had to have him.

He would find him again.

*

Will ran through his deliveries as quickly as possible, took the money he received and left it with the girl who handled all the accounting- a skinny strung out little thing, who lived with their boss and Will was sure was fucking him on a regular basis. He was glad to not see the man, instead took the cut she gave him, and went on his way, mind set on getting into his apartment as quickly as possible.

His blood was running hot, and he felt wild. Once he was finally inside he tugged his jacket off, throwing it, worked on the buttons to his shirt and cursed when one popped off. He needed it all gone, needed everything off his skin- only wanted flesh on flesh, that mouth on his again.

He fell onto his bed, squirming as he tugged his pants and underwear off, kicking them until they fell onto the floor. In the dark he reached down, grasped his cock, which had ached the entire night, since that kiss, that moment when he was pressed up against a warm body and Hannibal was flooding his body with a rush he hadn’t felt before. He stroked, frantically, arching, but he was craving more, craving the feeling of someone inside him.

Will rolled over, pushed himself up onto his knees and buried his face in his pillow, reaching his hand back and running his fingers along his hole. He was slick, felt it running down his hand, and when he pushed two fingers in he cried out, bucking at the intrusion. He reached for his cock with his other hand, ignoring the ache in his neck and shoulders as his face was pushed into his pillows, stroked himself quickly as he thrust, stretched. His head was heavy with the memory of Hannibal’s mouth, heat, his _scent_ and _fuck when he ordered me to tell him my name_ -

Will screamed, digging his teeth into his pillow, came with a rush, cock pulsing as he painted his sheets and hand, his bodies slick trickling down his thighs. He collapsed, after the last wave, lay in his own mess and clutched at the pillow, kept his face buried in it as he shook. He’d never felt this way before, not anything close to this in such a long time-

He wanted. He craved, would have let the man take him, work him up until Will was a mess and riding his body, but he _couldn’t_. Will hadn’t had sex of his choosing in so long, his body was property now- business use only.

There wasn’t a place in this world, evne his own flesh, where he held even that little bit of control.

*

It hadn’t taken Hannibal long at all to locate the gang ring that Will was owned by. A brief, curious discussion with the woman who had bought from him, with another man who she said used the same suppliers, and he had a contact. As he sat, now, across from a man with his dark hair slicked back in a black on black suit, he knew he would have Will. It would only take the right price.

Fortunately, he could match or beat any number he knew would be thrown out.

“How long do you want an Omega? Hour, two-“

“All night.” The man nodded, swirled the wine in his glass he had barely touched. Hannibal did not think wine was to his liking- stronger drinks, but this small cafe, in late afternoon, was limited with their options.

“Expensive.”

“I am not concerned about price.” Another nod, the other Alpha sucking on his teeth for a minute.

“I’ve got three. Two cute young ones, male and female. Preference-“

“You have a specific Omega I’m interested in.” The other man inclined his head. “Mid-twenties, brown curls. I do believe he has tattoos.” Hannibal remembered the flash of colors on his arms, that first night- regretted he did not know exactly what was pictured on that skin.

He would learn.

“Will,” the man said, and Hannibal nodded. The man laughed at that, leaning back. “Let me give you a piece of advice. You’ve got the money, go for one of the younger ones.”

“Will is certainly not _old_ by any standards.”

“But the other two, they’re good. They’ll be sweet on you real fast. Will’s a pony who almost broke but then figured out how to jump the damn fence. Better for the johns who give me trouble, and running my... merchandise.”

“If he is damaged goods, as you seem to think he is, why do you keep him?”

“Omegas are hard to find- obviously, you know that if you’re _buying_ one’s company for a night. Besides, Will knows the drill, knows what he’s gotta do. I don’t have trouble with him normally, not in a long time. But he’s not-“ he paused, sucked on his teeth again, pondering his words, “not as _submissive_ as he ought to be.”

“He is still my choice.”

“Fine then, no problem. You want to buy his heat too, or just him for the night?” The question was asked without any emotion, so flatly that Hannibal felt taken aback for a moment.To think it was so easy to attain, with just a number-

And he could. He had no doubt he could afford to have Will’s heat induced, to take him over and over again for days, to have him screaming and broken, begging and so hypersensitive that a simple touch would bring him off.

“No,” Hannibal finally said, folding his hands, “Just him, for the whole night.”


	2. Part 2: Living with the Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A _huge_ thank you to everyone who is reading, and all your kind words! It means a lot to me, and I'm so excited over how well this is being received!
> 
> The final part (and the longest haha) will be up sometime Friday. I'm not sure if it will be in the afternoon or the evening yet, but definitely sometime that day :)

” I'm here walking in a city that is red again  
I'm here living with the dead again  
Knowing why I'm here again.”  
“Red City” – Stone Sour 

Will frowned as he stared into his empty fridge. He knew it was empty before opening it, but he felt compelled to check anyway- as if something would magically appear. He slammed the door shut, knew there was nothing in the cupboards and didn’t bother checking. He stuffed his hands into his pockets as his belly cramped up, screaming at him that he needed to eat. He hadn’t yet that day, and it was late afternoon now. In fact, he wasn’t sure he had eaten yesterday.

His hands came up empty. He’d used the last of his money to cover rent on the pathetic apartment, and his change to _finally_ to his laundry. He knew he’d have to wait until he got another cut from a job to eat. As it was, he hadn’t heard anything about that night, which would mean waiting for the running he had to do the following evening-

Will’s thoughts were cut off when he heard his phone buzzing. He scrambled for where it was thrown on his bed, answering in a huff and hearing the gravely voice of his boss.

“Got a job for you.”

“Yeah?” Will sat down, wondered if it was running drugs or sucking cock- didn’t care at that point what it was. He was hungry, starving really, he’d do any of it.

“Yeah. Guy bought you for a night. I’m texting you his address, be there at eight. You’re his until he lets you go in the morning- don’t fuck it up kid, he paid top dollar for you, I’d like a repeat customer here.” The line went dead and Will set his phone aside, raking his hands up over his face and back through his hair. _A whole night_.

Will was used to being bought for a few hours, but a whole night? It had been a long time. The other two Omegas in his ring got most of the attention- he tended to get the more problematic customers. It was assumed Will was hardened at this point, could handle them.

He was damaged goods anyway at this point, and knew it too. They’d fucked him up with his suppressants, so many so that they weren’t entirely sure what his next heat would be like, if they let him experience it. They didn’t share that with the customers, but Will knew it was true. He’d heard horror stories about other Omegas after prolonged usage of the extra suppressants they had used.

Will touched his arm, stroked the smooth patch there that seeped extra hormones into his system. If he were to remove it, he might fall back into a regular rhythm, have a heat again soon. If he were to remove it and chuck the pills he took as well, he had no idea what his body would do.

Probably try to right itself. Probably send him into a heat so strong he’d be lost for a week, or more, sobbing and needing. He couldn’t do that without an Alpha- and one he trusted- to take care of him, not only to satiate his needs but to allow their pheromones to soothe him, to take into account his body’s limits in comparison to its needs.

Honestly, he’d need a mate for it. And bonding wasn’t something Will ever expected to do. He wouldn’t find someone he trusted, not like that. In the world Will knew, trust wasn’t an option for him. A mate, the feeling in his chest he’d heard of, that tight pull that held them together, that bond that let them within each other’s heads- it was above him. Will, he was sure, was below comfort of any sort.

He took a long shower, the water luke warm but enough, cleaned himself up as best as possible. He went with blue flannel and jeans, his worn out jacket over it because he had nothing else, and the walk would be cold, and set out. He’d be able to catch the bus- he scrounged around and found enough change for part of the ride across the city- but he’d be walking a good part of the way. He’d need the time.

*

Hannibal kept his home in pristine, running order- but still had felt the need to run over it with a fine toothed comb through out the day. Each room was checked to make sure it was in the desired order- and only when Hannibal was satisfied did he retreat to the kitchen, checking over his ingredients for dinner. He was supposed to meet with two patients and had moved their appointments, claiming there had been a personal emergency- both of which were very accepting, as Hannibal was not one to ever cancel an appointment himself.

He poured himself a glass of wine, savored it as he did one final walk through his house, then returned to his kitchen to begin preparing dinner. His heart felt alive as he did so, beating faster than usual, anticipation a tight knot in his belly as he imagined the little Omega in his arms, his lap, squirming closer and clutching at him as he had in that alley. The thoughts had to be chased away, for fear he become too distracted and ruin the food- and the fear that he would become far too aroused far too quickly.

Both were concepts Hannibal was unaccustomed to.

*

Will stood on the steps of the large house for a good minute, just gawking. Howard’s house had been huge, lavish inside, but this felt different- old and well earned, cared for. Like a castle from dreams of princesses and knights and dragons.

Dreams that had been shattered a long, _long_ time ago.

Will braced himself, rang the doorbell, and waited, hands in his pockets. He heard, after a brief pause, the lock turning, and told himself it didn’t matter who was behind that door- a full night job meant a decent cut, meant he’d get some food in his apartment, get a small start on the rent money for the next month-

Will’s thoughts all died away when Hannibal stood in the doorway, free of the suits Will had seen him in twice, in simple slacks and his button down, the sleeves rolled up. His apron was still around his waist.

“Hello Will.” Will felt his stomach clenching, his throat going tight, and he just stared, even as Hannibal stepped aside, holding the door open for him. “Please, come in.”

He hesitated, then Will stepped in, listening to the door closing behind him, the _click_ of the lock. When he turned, faced the Alpha again, Hannibal had a small, sweet smile on his face. Charming to a point that Will’s legs felt like gelatin.

“Allow me,” Hannibal offered, holding out a hand, and Will shrugged his jacket off, passing it off. Hannibal hung it up, and Will toed his shoes off, taking notice of Hannibal’s silent, socked feet. “Please, come in.” Will hesitated until Hannibal had stepped past him, then followed, through his dinning room, and into the kitchen. The scents had begin to fade into the air the closer he got, and by the time he was in the kitchen Will’s stomach was aching terribly, reminding him of how hungry he was.

“Your kitchen is...”

“Lavish,” Hannibal filled in with a chuckle, walking around the stove and flipping the meat he had settled in a pan.

“Crazy,” Will corrected, “but, uh, _good_ crazy. I mean it’s huge and so...orderly. I think it’s bigger than my whole apartment.” Hannibal raised his eyes at that, but Will didn’t notice, nor did he continue on that train of thought. “Are you expecting company?” Will’s eyes dropped to the set of plates on the counter, and Hannibal smiled.

“Only you.” Will swallowed, felt his muscles tightening. He must have given something away, with his eyes or mouth or his _scent_ , because Hannibal continued, “Did you think I would not be alone?”

“Well uh...I’ve just never had someone who bought me for a while...ya know...make me dinner.” Hannibal smiled, shutting off the stove and grabbing his tongs, carefully setting the meat on its place on each plate, then moving to the glaze he had made.

“I find evenings always more enjoyable after a good meal and a glass or two of wine.” Hannibal smiled, openly, warmly at Will, and the flipping in hi stomach had nothing to do with his hunger for food in that moment. “We can forego dinner if it leaves you uneasy.”

“No!” Will blushed at his quick response, shook his head and stared at the counter as Hannibal moved to continue plating. “I...I would feel bad, you went through all this trouble.”

“The culinary arts are one of my passions,” he offered, smiling as he lifted both plates, walking around the counter to Will and guiding him back out to the table. Hannibal set both plates down, and gestured to the sat on the right of the had’s. Will settled into it, watched Hannibal untying his apron as h left the room again. This time, whn he returned, h clutched two wine glasses and a bottle. He set them downed, poured the dark wine, and then handed a glass to Will.

“Thank you,” Will whispered, accepting it and cradling the class. The bottle looked expensive, and Will didn’t even want to think about how many groceries this one glass of wine could probably buy. Instead he watched the color of the liquid change in the light, until Hannibal had settled next to him, still without his suit.

Will was thankful for it. He was under dressed as it was, but a suit would have left him floundering. He never felt like this with any of his johns-

_This one has a name, and you know it. This one is treating you like a human being_.

Will swallowed.

_This one is also the Chesapeake Ripper_.

“I’ve prepared filet mignon in a balsamic glaze,” Hannibal offered with a smile, “I do hope it is to your liking.”

“You didn’t need to go through so much trouble,” Will whispered, waiting until Hannibal had begun to cut into the steak to do the same. He tried to stay a step behind, but when he plucked the speared hunk of meat from his fork with his teeth, felt it bursting over his tongue in a flavor that had him giving a soft moan. He blushed, the moment he realized what had happened, finished chewing and swallowed, looking at his wine and stammering, “it’s really good.”

Hannibal smiled, enjoying the scent of his wine for a moment before he took a sip. Will tried to imitate, felt like an idiot, and just took a sip, cutting back into the steak. “I’m glad you find it satisfactory.”

“I...I think this is the best meal I’ve ever had,” Will admitted, knowing he didn’t _think_ , he _knew_. Hannibal chuckled.

“You flatter me, I’m sure you have had others.” Will shook his head.

“No. Trust me, this wasn’t the food I ate growing up. And...well, it’s not something that is a part of my current _lifestyle_.” Will took another bite, savored it, his stomach seeming to vibrate with the joy of having food again- and sooner than he had expected. Better than he expected.

“Tell me, Will, where did you grow up?” Will arched an eyebrow, took a sip of his wine.

“You don’t have to make small talk,” Will offered, “It’s okay.”

“I’m not. I am genuinely interested. If you would be willing to share.” Will hesitated, shrugged a shoulder and tried to settle into a frame of detachment.

“Not much to it, really. I was born in Louisiana, raised by my father. Moved around a lot, following him while he fixed boat engines and such.” Will swirled his wine around, but didn’t take a sip. “Left home when I was about fifteen, when dad started treating me differently.”

“You came into yourself.” Will laughed at that, finding Hannibal’s phrasing oddly endearing.

“My hormones kicked it into high gear, yeah. Dad knew I would need suppressants, and those are expensive- money he didn’t have. Money I knew he didn’t have. So one night I just threw some shit into a bag and left. Probably for the better.”

“And where is your father now?”

“Died a few years after I left. I didn’t go that far, at first. I had to finish school- which was hell. One of only a few Omegas, and the only without suppressants. Got knocked around a lot, learned how to give a few good punches.” Will shrugged. “I moved from couch to couch, until I found a guy who was willing to give me a spot in his apartment in exchange for me running his drugs. It was better than the street so I took it. He got me suppressants too, for the first time. Not the right dosage, but better than nothing. Fucked with my system a bit tho, I never had a heat the entire time. Probably lucky I didn’t.”

“You simply had a late flowering,” Hannibal offered, sipping at his wine. “But I would agree it is perhaps in your favor.”

“Yeah. And well, I left Louisiana shortly after I graduated. The guy was moving shop, had a cousin here in Baltimore, so I moved with him. Guy got himself shot for pissing off another supplier in the city, and I got shuffled around, then traded off to where I am now. Been with these fuckers for about five years now.” Will blushed, mumbled an apology over the language, and chose to occupy his mouth with food instead. He felt odd, exposed in that moment. He didn’t talk about himself with his johns- they talked at him, about themselves, but they never asked about his life. No one cared.

_Does he care_?

“I’m being rude,” Will finally said, “You’re asking about me and I haven’t given you the chance to tell me about yourself. If we’re sharing.”

“You know plenty about me already,” Hannibal offered with a playful smile, the kind that had Will’s belly tugged up towards his lungs.

“I know you’re a damn good serial killer, and I know what your mouth tastes like. What else do you do, Hannibal? Simply pick up Omegas for the night?”

Hannibal laughed at that, reaching for the wine and refilling his glass. He motioned, and Will held his out, accepting more. “I can say without a doubt, dear Will, you are the first companion I have ever paid for.” Will blushed, but Hannibal ignored it. “If you are so inclined to know, I am a psychiatrist. In my personal time, I enjoy the culinary arts, along with the fine arts. Drawing is a personal passion, along with music- I play both the Harpsichord and the Theremin. If I am inclined to enjoy company, I do enjoy dinner parties, and the opera.”

Will stared at him, jaw feeling slack. “So, you’re a doctor- kinda?”

“Yes, my patients and some acquaintances do call me Dr. Lecter.”

Will sipped his wine, for courage, then asked, “Should _I_ be calling you Dr. Lecter?”

Hannibal laughed. “No, Will, Hannibal will be just fine in your case.” Will nodded, took another, longer sip, as Hannibal stood up from the table. “Allow me a moment to clean up, and then we can retire to a more comfortable room.” Will nodded, moved to stand up, but Hannibal held his hand up. “Please, allow me. I will be but a moment.”

Will watched him gather up his plate and make his way back to the kitchen. He reached for his wine, and once he was alone, downed it all, his hand shaking slightly. He couldn’t explain the heat in his belly, the fluttering in his chest, the sudden anxiety washing over him.

Hannibal was being kind. Will wasn’t used to anything of that sort.

*

Hannibal spent a few precious minutes in the kitchen, tidying up. His chest was tight, his ribs feeling as if they were pulsing in on his lungs and heart, confining them painfully. He was curious about Will, but he couldn’t fully explain to himself the desire to have the boy open up- to ask him about his past. And while he could have fathomed none of it would have been a pleasant tale, there was still an ache over this creature who seemed to have never had a friend in the world.

Hannibal was not one to care so easily, so strongly, and this startled him.

He took a deep breath, made sure his hair was in order, then made his way back to the table, found Will nursing his empty wine glass, fingers tapping against it gently. He inclined his head to the bottle, but Will shook his head. “Oh, no thank you.”

“Come, let us get more comfortable.”

He led Will out to his sitting room, stopped to glance as the boy walked in, glancing around. Hannibal settled on the couch, watched him walk around the room, taking in the rich colors, glancing at the paintings on the wall.

“I feel like I’m in a museum,” Will admitted, and Hannibal laughed at that.

“As I said, I’m a lover of the fine arts. My home reflects that.” Will stopped at the Harpsichord, inclined his head to it. He seemed about to ask about the instrument, but his mouth wasn’t forming the words. Hannibal took over for him. “My Harpsichord.”

“Does it sound like a piano?” Hannibal smiled, the Omega’s inquisitiveness endearing on him, and stood from the couch. He walked over, settling down on the bench and carefully pressed his fingers along the keys, bringing life to the air in the room. He played a simple, short piece- enough to give Will a sample of the sound, before he stilled, glancing up. Will stood, still frozen by the Harpsichord- staring off, away from Hannibal, at what he wasn’t sure. His eyes could have caught any number of pieces of art along the wall- of the wal itself, the shadows playing on it.

Perhaps they were lost in nothing.

“It does sound different,” Will finally whispered, as Hannibal stood up. He made his way back to the couch, settling back down, his arm up along the back. He wanted the Omega to turn, to settle in next to him, curled up. He wanted it and he had not planned on wanting it- but Hannibal realized, as he felt slightly hot beneath his skin, muscles tight and pulsing, an ache in his chest, that he had not truly planned any of this. He wanted to think he had, but he hadn’t.

Will finally turned, eyed the spot next to Hannibal, and when he began to move Hannibal felt his breath rush out in relief. He could have _told_ the Omega to come sit with him, he could have told him to do anything he wanted-

He bought him, he owned him for the night. Will was his for whatever he wanted, desired, could even think of-

_You do not buy or own a man_ Hannibal reminded himself, even as Will settled in next to him, close but not quite touching. Still, Hannibal’s fingertips brushed his shoulder, and the contact shocked his nerves, made Hannibal wonder what sort of witchcraft this boy truly was.

“I’m shocked you needed to...buy me,” Will whispered, “You obviously have plenty to offer. How are you not bonded?”

“The desire never struck me,” Hannibal admitted, honestly. He had considered one, perhaps if Alana had been a Beta, or blissfully an Omega, that he may have pursued her. But looking back, he was glad it were not so- in a world where his friends were held at arms length at best, she was the only one he had allowed in close enough to truly use the term for. She was his only friend, and he valued her more in her standing as that than he thought he would as a mate.

“I guess lucky for me,” Will said with a playful smile, one that had Hannibal smiling back. The Omega seemed to realize his words and blushed, looking down. “Sorry I...I’m not used to someone actually being remotely gentle with me. Even if you fuck like an animal this is still the sweetest night of my life, I think.” Will laughed nervously, and Hannibal let his hand fall to his shoulder, grip it, enjoy the warmth from the boy’s skin as it soaked into his shirt. He could smell the sweetness on him, and it was enticing, but differently than he had expected, differently from that moment in the alley.

He wanted to have the boy curl up in his lap, bury his face in his curls. He wanted to hold Will, treasure the damaged little Omega, and it was such a tender and strong desire that it shook Hannibal to his core. He wanted to blame the boy’s pheromones- that perhaps because he had grown comfortable he was projecting certain ones without realizing it- but he couldn’t. His own will, he knew, was strong- and this Omega’s hormones were so muted, so washed out, he couldn’t have compelled Hannibal so strongly if he tried.

This was something he truly wanted, all on his own.

“I have no intention of taking you to bed,” Hannibal finally admitted, and to this Will perked up, turning and staring at him with open eyes.

“Wh-what?”

“I will not fuck you, dear Will,” he said, more bluntly, his hand drifting from Will’s shoulder, rubbing his upper arm. “I desired your company, that was all. There will be no pressure for any carnal activities.”

“But...you paid for me.” Will shook his head, shifting, turning his body towards Hannibal so the man’s hand fell away. “You paid a _lot_ for me. I know a whole night isn’t cheap.”

“What I paid was not an amount that worries me. A man cannot be bought, Will. Nor owned. I simply fed into your system to secure a night with you.”

“Trust me,” Will whispered, still staring at Hannibal, “We can be bought. Highest bidder always wins. I don’t even own my own body anymore.” Hannibal moved then, the ache in his chest building, too much- the Omega was uncomfortable, his emotions plan on his face, mingling in his scent- he needed comfort, and for once, Hannibal allowed himself to act fully on his biology. He pulled Will to him, wrapping his arms around him and pressing the boy to his chest. Will squirmed, but only for a moment- did not try to pull away, only inch his body closer, until his head rested on Hannibal’s chest. Hannibal stroked one hand along his spine, the other is arm, urged him to a tranquility with his own pheromones, and felt the boy melting against him.

“You always own your body,” Hannibal whispered, “No matter what they have done to you, to it. Your flesh is your own- even if someone were to take your life, to take your flesh. It is yours until they have consumed it.”

Will tensed, for a moment, before he relaxed again, nestling into Hannibal’s chest. The ache the doctor had felt dissipated, replaced by warmth and a pleasant buzz. He gripped the Omega tighter, heard him mewl softly as he continued to stroke his spine.

“Why me?” Will finally whispered, and Hannibal leaned down, pressing his mouth into Will’s curls, breathing him in.

“Because,” Hannibal offered quietly, “You are fascinating.”

*

Will said nothing to that, closed his eyes instead and nestled against Hannibal’s chest again. He could hear his heart, a calm, steady beat in his chest, and Will felt his own trying to mimic it. His body felt strange to him, his skin was tingling, his belly felt tender as he curled up on himself. Despite being pressed against Hannibal he wanted to be closer.

_He’s not going to fuck you_ he thought to himself, idly, with no real fallow up. He didn’t understand what Hannibal wanted from him, and he wasn’t sure he could. Maybe the man didn’t know himself.

All Will knew was that his belly was _full_ , his body relaxed- and for the first time, the arms around him felt secure. He felt he could settle, could nest himself inside Hannibal, and it would all be okay.

“Considering you’re a serial killer,” Will mused, “you probably shouldn’t be the nicest person to have ever touched me.” He shifted, lifting his head and laying along Hannibal more, pressing his mouth to the man’s neck. His skin made Will hungry.

When Hannibal chuckled, felt felt it rumble from his chest, vibrate his smaller body- felt it move along his lips. He kissed, squirmed, nipped at the man’s neck, until Hannibal’s hands moved from his back and arm to his waist, gripped him as Will crawled onto his lap, straddled him. Will reached his hands back, into Hannibal’s perfectly kept hair, and didn’t think, didn’t bother to try to stop himself, just let his mouth find Hannibal’s and kiss him. He reveled in the way the taste of wine clung to his mouth, the feel of his lips as they moved, pressed back to Will’s as the Omega tilted his head, gave Hannibal the perfect angle to explore.

Hannibal clutched at his waist, and Will loved the feeling of his hands there. He wanted them lower, on his hips, guiding their movements-

Will realized he was almost _hoping_ the man might change his mind, might fuck him. He wanted it, couldn’t tell if it was the Alpha’s pheromones or just some odd desires, but he wasn’t used to it. He wriggled around, gasped into Hannibal’s mouth, sucked on his tongue when it was given. He tugged the man’s hair, slid along his lap- was getting hard, wet, aching inside his body and couldn’t remember the last time he ached in a pleasant way.

Because, he knew, he never had.

“Hann-ibal,” he groaned, pressing his forehead to the man’s, his breath coming in excited puffs against the doctor’s lips. Hannibal’s hands were tight on his waist, and Will could smell the arousal- his own, Hannibal’s, he wasn’t sure- and thought perhaps the man _would_ change his mind.

When Hannibal moved, it was quick.He shifted Will off his lap- getting a small cry from the Omega- and stood, then scooped him up. Will gasped, threw his arms around Hannibal’s neck and clung, though he felt so secure in the Alpha’s hold. He nuzzled into his neck, kissed at his skin as he was carried- couldn’t see where and didn’t care. He felt Hannibal moving up the stairs and sucked on his ear lobe, squirmed in his arms and heard the man chuckle, tightening his hold until Will was pressed so tightly to him he truly could have crawled in under his ribs.

When Will looked up the room they had entered was dark, and then he was being dropped, down on a soft bed and Hannibal was crawling over him, pinning him down with his body, sliding between his legs. He kissed him again and Will was left breathless, whimpering and pushing up against Hannibal’s hips- finding him hard and groaning into his mouth.

“Sure,” he gasped, breathless, before Hannibal nipped at his lower lip and made him groan, “you don’t wanna-“ another groan as Will’s own erection rubbed against Hannibal’s, the clothing a damnable wall between them, “fuck me?”

Hannibal growled, breaking his mouth away and looking down with eyes wild and dark. Will licked his lips, wanted to kiss him again, didn’t ever want that mouth to go away- and _oh what was wrong with him, he never ached, never wanted and needed_ \- but Hannibal inhaled, let out his shaky breath, and shook his head.

“I won’t take you,” breathed, and Will whimpered.

“ _Why not_?” He pushed his hips up, grinding into Hannibal’s erection, and suddenly the Alpha was pushing himself up, onto his knees. He grabbed Will, dragged him up too, reaching for his pants and popping them open. The hand that delved in was large, and when it pulled his cock free, wrapping around heat flesh, Will cried out. He pushed into that first, head shaking, felt his hole nearly dripping _and he just wanted Hannibal to fill him_.

Hannibal’s other hand worked on his own pants, Will could just see, and then he had himself in hand and was stroking them in time together. Will tossed his head again, leaned his forehead onto the man’s shoulders and trembled, _watching_ as he clutched at Hannibal’s biceps.

“Let me feel you,” Will breathed, and then Hannibal was leaning his hips into Will, pressing his thick cock flush to Will’s and stroking his hand along as much as he could cover. Will shuddered, clutched tighter, breathed out _fuck_ and felt a pressure in his spine, down in his belly and balls. He turned his head, found Hannibal’s neck, kissed and licked at his flesh, mewled against it, heard Hannibal gasp. “Fuck, I wanna cum with you,” Will pleaded, before the points of his teeth brushed Hannibal’s skin. And he did, down in his core he wanted release with this Alpha, felt suddenly in tune with him, could have sworn the pressure in his back intensified as he bit Hannibal’s neck, as the man groaned.

As if they wre linked as one.

Hannibal inhaled, sharply, Will wondered what pheromones he smelled, what he could still give off with his suppressants raging through him. The Alpha himself with a spicy array of sweet toxins, making Will wetter, making him whimper and buck, and he was _so close_ -

Then Hannibal breathed it, softly, _Will_ and the Omega was gone, moaning into Hannibal’s skin and cumming over his hand, against his own shaft. Hannibal growled his response, bucked, and was gone as well, a mix of pearl-essence and tangled, ragged breath.

When Hannibal’s hand finally ceased its sweet motion, Will sagged forward, still clinging to the man. He breathed into his flesh, felt a soothing warmth spreading out through him. In the back of his mind, he realized it was beyond the feel of his post orgasmic high- Hannibal was soothing him, calming him, wrapping him in his warm scent and easing the tension years had built up in his body.

The Omega didn’t want to, but he moved, slowly, fell back against the pillows as Hannibal pulled away, drawing himself from the bed to clean up the mess they had made. Will tucked himself away, his hands shaking, and wondered who he was, this man whose flesh he was residing in. Never once had he been aroused by anyone who bought him-

_Hannibal didn’t buy you. He said he couldn’t. He bought your time, you gave him this._ Will shook his head, still breathing heavily as Hannibal crawled back into bed, laying down. Will slid down onto his back, rolled over and clung to him, nestling in and breathing and holding and simply _being_. Hannibal’s arm clutched around him, and when he said nothing Will was thankful. The silence was soothing, the nothing was calm and tranquil-

For once, Will felt like his body was his own.

*

When Hannibal awoke, there was the beginnings of daylight streaming in through his window, past the part in his curtains. He turned his head, found Will laying facing away from him, curl in on himself protectively. He shifted, rolled to his side, reached out and ran his hand down along his spine, felt the bone beneath the boy’s worn flannel shirt. The Omega made a small noise, rolled onto his back, still asleep, curls tussled and framing his face in a way that made Hannibal smile, ever so softly.

His shirt was unbuttoned- Hannibal could remembering doing that, in the dark of his room, unable to see anything but feeling warm skin beneath his finger tips. Now, with the blanket pooling down at Will’s waist, he could see the bursts of color on his chest- the massive shape of a moth, brilliant reds and starling whites, looking ready to lift directly from the Omega’s chest.

Hannibal inclined his head, studied it, dared to reach out and trace the shape of one wing. Will stirred then, making another small noise, and his eyes fluttered open, glancing at Hannibal from the haze of heavy sleep. It took only a moment, and then Will was smiling- a soft little thing, warm and creating a tug deep inside Hannibal’s ribs.

“Mornin’,” Will offered, and for the first time, Hannibal heard the hint of his accent, the hint of a past life he tried to bury beneath flesh and- perhaps- ink.

“Good morning.” Will shifted, pushed himself up on the pillows more, and Hannibal watched his hand slip down, to the edge of a wing. He inched closer, wanted to curl himself around this boy, felt the urge to press to him as a shield, and did not try to explain it. He felt betrayed by his body and mind both, but it was not unenjoyable-

It was quite the opposite.

Hannibal traced a wing again, trailing fingers inside over one of the pristine gashes of white to the wing. Will just smiled, watching. “It’s a Cecropia moth.”

“Hmmm?” Hannibal moved his hand across Will’s chest, to the next wing, felt Will’s breaths with each rise and fall of his chests.

“The largest moth in North America.”

“I was unaware you had a passion for these creatures.” Will laughed, shrugged his shoulder.

“I used to see them at night, when I was younger. Just moths in general. Flocking against screen doors towards the light. Everyone complained, but I didn’t get it- still don’t. We like butterflies, what’s the different? If anything, I almost want to pet a moth.” He laughed, and the sound was so rich is broke the air of the room, had Hannibal pulling himself closer until he truly was pushed along Will’s side, sitting up and pulling him closer. Will fell into his arms, nestled into him, breathed him in and Hannibal urged him to a sweet calm.

He wasn’t used to using his pheromones openly on someone- and never an Omega. It made his heart thud, just a bit rougher, at the confines of his chest.

“They’re pretty, but no one thinks they are. I don’t know, I just like them.”

“You wear this as if it’s a shield.” Will was quiet for a moment, before he pulled away. Hannibal watched as he tugged his shirt off his shoulders, tossing it aside, sat there naked from the waist up, the color on his arms exposed- the tattoos running up over his shoulders. Countless flowers, dark blooms but rich, moths of all colors, a mural of a wild world Hannibal had never dream of.

“They’re all shields,” Will admitted, staring at Hannibal, catching his eyes and holding it. “They keep the bad out- and they keep what’s left of me in.” Hannibal reached for one arm, pulled it to him gingerly as Will fit in against his chest. He could smell him, tired and sweet and the tug in his chest turned to a pleasant tightness, a throb that he enjoyed but could not explain.

Careful fingers traced along the shapes on Will’s arm, flipped it over and ran along the smooth, small patch that broke the texture of skin and, if it were to catch the morning light, would give a faint reflection. Hannibal looked at Will, and the Omega dipped his head down.

“Pills for my normal suppressants,” he whispered, “and this to keep me from ever going into heat.”

“Ever?” Will nodded.

“So long as it’s on. I only take them off to change them, every two weeks. If I were to leave it off, I’d go into heat within forty-eight hours. If I were to go off my regular suppressants, it might be sooner. And honestly, it’d probably be terrible.”

“Why would it be terrible?” Hannibal ran his palm along the top of Will’s arm, his other hand carding through his curls. “I have always been told that a heat handled properly can be rather euphoric- and if you have a partner, very intimate.”

“Well those are two things I’ve never had.” Will shifted, but only closer, turned to press a kiss to Hannibal’s neck quickly. “No one gives a shit about handling me properly, and no one cares. I’ve only ever had one heat, and I don’t want to repeat it.”

Hannibal stilled his movements, glancing down at the Omega with openly shocked eyes. “One? Will...tell me your age.” Hannibal hadn’t asked, it hadn’t mattered- he’d made an approximate guess of early twenties or so, but even that that would be ridiculous. He should have been experience them once every few months, as an unbonded Omega on suppressants.

“Twenty five,” Will admitted. “My first heat was three years ago, and it was my only one. They got me on suppressants before they could properly start. And it was not a pleasant affair.” Will shuddered, and Hannibal held him tighter- wondered what ran through the boy’s head, but did not ask. For now, he let it drift into a silence around them. He had learned enough from this visit- more so than he had anticipated.

“Would you like breakfast?” Will looked up, raised his eyebrows, and Hannibal was smiling again. “Take a shower, I will meet you downstairs.”

“You sure?” Hannibal nodded, and Will squirmed away, standing up and making his way to the master bathroom in just his underwear, allowing Hannibal a look at the curves of his legs and ass, before he averted his eyes, for fear he would chase after the Omega and betray himself, more so than he had already.

*

The water was hot, a pleasant change to Will’s normal showers, the soap and shampoo he found richly scented and leaving him cleaner than he had ever felt. He took the time to run his fingers along his chest, remembering Hannibal’s there, tracing the wings of his moth, and smiled to himself. Even with steaming water and rich soap, he wa sure he wouldn’t be able to wash the man’s scent off his skin.

When he stepped out and toweled off, he slipped back into the bedroom to put his clothes back on. Laying on the bed with his jeans and flannel was a neatly folded red sweater. Will eyed it for a moment, before he picked it up, felt the heavy, warm material, the patterns in the weaving. He pressed his face to it, and sure enough, it smelled like Hannibal- his skin and cologne, enough to make Will feel weak.

*

Hannibal had just set breakfast on the table when Will appeared, ruffling his wet curls and adjusting his glasses. A smile crossed the doctor’s face when he noticed Will had forgone his own shirt and was wearing the sweater he had left out. His chest swelled, and the only thought he had for a long moment was _mine_.

He pushed it away, when Will settled at the table, smiling at him, and tried to pretend it had never crossed his mind. _You do not buy a man, you do not own a man..._

_But you can earn him._

Hannibal enjoyed the silence as they ate. He enjoyed the small looks Will gave him, glances and smiles at the corner of his mouth. He softened, and at one point dared to lean over, sink his hand into his curls and kiss him, wanting to taste his breath, feel the very life in him.

He didn’t want to see him go.

He wanted this fascinating creature forever.

Hannibal had _never_ entertained the idea of forever, becaue he knew everything was finite, and that was acceptable.

He offered to drive Will home, but the Omega shook his head at the door, shoes on, as Hannibal handed him the worn out thing he claimed was a coat. Hannibal was only glad his sweater would give him some warmth, as the morning had a crisp chill to it.

“What if I insisted?” Hannibal asked, leaning against the doorway, Will having taken a step outside- but only one. Will smiled at him again, and Hannibal bottled it, saved it.

“I’d still say no. Trust me, don’t drive your pretty car around where I live.” Will laughed, mostly at himself, then leaned in, giving Hannibal’s mouth a chaste kiss, the kind that made the Alpha want to touch his own lips, make sure they truly existed. When Will pulled back, there was a moment of hesitation, before he finally offered, in a soft question, “See you around?”

Hannibal smiled, all the way up to his eyes- felt it even in his belly- and gave Will a nod. “Yes, I will be seeing you, dear Will.”

The Omega left with a tentative smile, but watching him walk away allowed the ache to return to Hannibal’s chest, a tugging from beneath his ribs as if he should follow the man, scoop him up one more time. He cursed it, but when he closed the door turned and leaned against it, scrubbing his hands over his face and wondering what his curiosity had gotten him into.

*  
It took Will most of the morning, but he made it across the city. He didn’t mind the walk, despite the cool air. While his jacket did little to keep himself warm, Hannibal’s sweater was soft against his bare skin, held the heat of his flesh in and left him comfortable. Will ducked into his apartment, blissfully unnoticed, stripped of the jacket and walked over to his counter, turning on the tap and getting a glass of water. He fished out his pills, popping one and swallowing it down with the stale water, before dumping the rest of the glass.

He held up the bottle, tilting it, listening to the pills sliding together. Little pale blue tablets that controlled his body, his life. Took away from what he was, reformed him into something society could handle-

Wasn’t that all they were? To keep the Alphas from having to control themselves? To hide what he was so at first glance, one might think he was a Beta, he could pass so long as no one spent too long on his scent. Will frowned, shoving the pills away- why should he have to alter his own biology for them- what was _so damn hard_ about a little self control?

Hannibal hadn’t seemed to have a problem with it. He would have fucked Will raw, left him a mess- instead he touched because Will wanted, had encouraged. Will wrapped his arms around himself, inside Hannibal’s sweater with a wall up to the world, and felt alright for the first time in a very long time. Felt okay with himself and the life he had landed himself in.

When his pocket started buzzing, Will gave it a glance- a message to go see his boss. He rolled his eyes, shoving it back away, and despite wanting to sit down, despite his legs having a dull ache from the long walked, he threw his tattered jacket back on and turned, making his way back out into the world.

*

Hannibal sat across from Alana as she sipped her champagne, eyeing him as he read over the menu. He flipped it over, and she heaved a sigh, pulling her glass from her lips. “What’s on your mind?”

“Hmm?” He didn’t look up, and Alana set her glass down, reaching over and settling her hand on the menu, gently forcing it to the table. Hannibal raised his eyes to hers.

“I have almost never seen you actually read over a menu- and never more than once. Where is your mind today?” Hannibal said nothing, kept his lips in a straight line and the mask he had expertly sewn pressed tight to his face- he had fooled Alana, blinded her, on so much, to keep her. He could hide this.

Or so he thought.

She inhaled, leaning closer, and her eyes widened, pupils dilating. Hannibal knew, before she spoke, that she smelled it- that faint sweetness, clinging beneath his scent. No matter the shower he’d taken, the cologne he wore, he knew Will’s scent clung to him. It was inescapable, considering Hannibal’s open use of his pheromones to soothe him, accepting the ones Will gave off in return and wanting to wrap himself around the boy, drown in his scent. Inescapable considering the arousal he had brought him.

“You were with an Omega.”

“Well dear Alana, one does encounter them from time to time.” She frowned, shaking her head, pristine dark waves giving her face a lovely moving frame.

“I encounter them all the time, considering my work. I soothe them and I take in their fear. And yet, you never comment on smelling them on me.” Hannibal frowned. It _was_ true- he could smell them on her after she had had a session with one, but it was a different scent, he could taste the fear left behind. He knew it was different, and he knew Alana was not blind to all his ways. “Hannibal, what is going on?”

“Perhaps I met someone,” he offered, relieved when the waiter arrived to take their lunch orders. Alana glanced at the Beta with a smile and gave hers, and Hannibal spoke, though he did not truly register what he had said to the man. He wasn’t particularly hungry, but he had not wanted to break his lunch date with his fellow Alpha. She was always a pleasant sight in his world. But he did not know how much he wanted to explain to her, how much of this fascinating boy he was willing to share.

“You _met someone_. Hannibal you’ll have to do better than that.” She leaned back, folded her arms, had a teasing smile on her pretty lips. “Where the hell did you meet an Omega?”

_The truth, or a constructed truth for her benefit?_ “It was an accidental, chance encounter,” he offered. “Then he seemed to simply continue to appear within my life.”

“He? Well, does he have a name?”

“Will.” Alana nodded. She reached for her champagne, and Hannibal saw her mind ticking behind her eyes, gentle clicks of gears, and oh how he wanted to reach into her skull and study. Few fascinated him as Alana Bloom did, few held the inquisitive, sharp mind she held- and Hannibal often wondered if she was as blind as she appeared to be.

Those thoughts intrigued him even more.

“Well...are you and Will...” she trailed off, and Hannibal arched a brow. Suddenly, for the first time, the truth sounded like the best option.

“Will is part of a trafficking ring. I purchased him for a night- but rest your mind Alana, not for any of the usual reasons. I simply find him intriguing, and was interested in having time alone with the boy.”

“A...a _trafficking ring_? Hannibal that’s illegal!” She leaned forward, grabbed at his hands, her voice turning low. “You could get in serious trouble if you’re caught.”

“Alana, rest assured my own safety is secure. You know, as well as I do, what a blind eye is turned to matter such as these.” Her eyes darkened, and he knew he was correct.

“If you didn’t...Hannibal don’t lie to me. I can smell him on you. _Something happened_. Don’t lie to me. Please.” He removed his hands from her hold, took hers instead, stroked along her knuckles.

“I informed Will I had no intention of taking him. And I did not. The small intimacy we shared he initiated, and had he at any point told me to stop, I would have. I am not a slave to my biology.” She looked away, and when she spoke her eyes were still cast off, at what Hannibal was not sure.

“So what are you going to do?” She did not ask his feelings on the matter, on the boy. She didn’t ask the severity of his intrigue- simply this. And Hannibal realized he was more of an open book to Alana than he had ever realized.

“I haven’t decided,” he admitted, and that was entirely the truth.

*

Will had been forced to wait, when his boss wasn’t at the usual spot. A bar, across the run down part of the city. He could have used a drink, but still had no money, and instead sat tapping his fingers. He’d given a nod to the bar tender, who knew him, knew his game, and kept an eye on him.

Not out of interest, not out of familiarity. Simply because Will was the boss’s property, and he had to be looked after. It made Will’s stomach feel sick.

The wait grew boring, and Will chose to move up to the bar, sit on a stool and idly talk with the bar tender. Not a cruel Beta, just working his job, and Will didn’t fault him for his position in all this. He was just trying to get by.

Will, if anyone, understood that.

He took to watching the news on the old television, boring at first, the weather, the stocks, before the camera panned back to the anchor and she held a grim expression.

“Another victim of the Chesapeake Ripper was discovered this morning. While the authorities are keeping details to a minimum, we know that like all his victims, she has been mutilated. Her liver is reported as missing, along with strips of muscle along her back. Here with me-“

Will faded out, didn’t hear her announce the name of her guest. In his mind he saw Hannibal’s hands, as they had been their first night together, latex clad- his whole body hidden in that suit of plastic. He had been terrifying, even if Will had kept his calm.

“-the muscle strips were an interesting choice, although not the first time the Ripper has chosen to take something aside of organs. They are equivalent to the cut of beef we know as filet mignon, which simply reinforces the authority’s hypothesis that he is cannibalizing his victims-“

Will grabbed the bar, his knuckles going white, and suddenly he could taste his dinner from the night before on his tongue. The seasoning and the perfect gush of the meat as his teeth broke the surface. He heard the little sound he had made, because it had been the best meal of his life.

_He is cannibalizing his victims_.

Will’s stomach tightened, and he knew, without a doubt, what he had eaten. _Say it_ he told himself, whispered inside his mind, _say it_ -

“Human flesh.” No sooner had the whisper left his lips someone was calling his name, walking into the bar. His boss grinned at him, clapped a hand on his shoulder when he reached him, then motioned with his finger to follow. Attached to his hip was the Beta woman Will knew kept their books-

_And sucked his dick when it pleased her_.

Will followed them to the back of the bar, into the hallway that hosted the bathroom, a small closet, and a third door, kept locked. The man produced a key, opened it up, and the three- flocked by another two large men, Betas that served as the man’s personal guards- headed down into the dark. A light was flicked on, flooding the single, large room with yellow light, and the only Alpha of the group, Will’s boss, made his way to the desk towards the back, settling down in it and sighing.

Will stood, just a few steps from the base of the stairs, looking around, unsure why he was even there. “What did you need me for?”

“Got a job for you tonight,” he said, and one of the large Betas was opening a safe, pulling the various baggies and bottles of drugs Will knew he’d be delivering. “A couple deliveries, higher scale clients.” Will nodded, didn’t particularly want to do it, but needed the money. Breakfast had faded from his stomach, and he was hungry again.

_Don’t think about food_ he reminded himself, feeling a mix of nausea and hunger that made his stomach cramp.

“Get it done early, got a guy interested in you for a few hours after,” he continued, jotting down an address and pushing it towards the edge of his desk, where the large Beta set the various narcotics. Will made no move to reach for them. His muscles cramped at the thought of someone touching him, someone that wasn’t Hannibal, body turning to iron.

“No,” he whispered, and his boss looked right at him. “No. I’ll run the drugs, but that’s it. I...I won’t do the rest. I’m done with that.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said I’m done.” Will folded his arms, wanted to curl up in defense, felt every set of eyes in the room on him, trying to peel back his skin and delve into him. “You’ve even said to me that I’m damaged goods. Maybe it’s time to take me off the market.”

There was a brief silence, then the man was laughing, throwing his head back and howling, a sound that made Will feel as if his skull had been replaced with a chalk board, and someone was dragging their nails all along the cavity.

“Oh Will,” the man said, pushing himself from his chair as his laughter died. He walked around the desk, eyeing the Omega as he paced. “You don’t get to decide that. You might be damaged, but you’re still worth more to me on your back than not. So take the address and go make me some money. We’ll get you your cut from last night’s john.”

The female Beta made her way to a small desk, by another safe. She was flipping through a book, no doubt looking for the notes on how much Hannibal had paid for Will- an affair of that costly magnitude would have been paid for up front, directly to Will’s boss, and the Omega was thankful he hadn’t had to be the one to take Hannibal’s money. He didn’t want it.

_He didn’t want it at all_.

“I don’t want it,” he finally said, causing stillness to fall over the room again. He swallowed the lump in his throat, knew it was a substantial amount he was tossing away- enough to set aside half his rent easily, get enough groceries for a week, have a little left over to get himself a beer to forget everything. _But he didn’t want it_. “I don’t want the money, and I don’t want another john stuffing his pathetic cock between my legs. _I’m done_.”

The Alpha frowned, motioning with one hand, and one of the large Beta man stalked forward, grabbed Will by the scruff of his hair with one hand, the other grabbing his wrists, holding them behind his back. Will thrashed, had his head jerked back painfully as his boss loomed in, leaning into his space. He smelled of overly spiced cologne and pheromones that made Will almost quiver. He swallowed the fear down, held it in his belly, told himself he was _done_ being afraid.

He was done being used. Knowing someone could touch him the way Hannibal did, could look at him as more than a fuckable toy, it had finally driven him here. He wasn’t going to live his life as trash, he wasn’t going to allow the world to use him. Not anymore. He was done.

His boss smiled, chuckled once, and then his fist connected with Will’s face. The Omega jerked back, against the Beta’s solid body, before there was another hit, the Alpha’s fist connecting with his glasses. The glass crunched and fell away, cutting into Will’s cheek, small shards embedding. He groaned as the frames tumbled to the ground, were stepped on, and dared to open his eyes. He could smell his own blood, felt it on his cheek.

“You don’t say no to me,” his boss spat, and hit him again, this time splitting his lip. Will felt it open, and then there was a punch to his belly, leaving him breathless. The hand in his hair released him so he could hunch forward, even as another fist pushed into his tender belly. Will fought down a howl, panted as the pain surged up his body. When the contact ceased, he looked up slowly through his curls, mouth bloody, and stared with eyes so startling even the Alpha paused.

“No,” Will whispered, lip twitching in a snarl, and the Alpha’s hands were fisting in his jacket, tearing him from the Beta and shoving him back a few steps, into the wall. Will’s head cracked back against it, and he saw stars, felt another fist in his belly, then a hand fisting in his hair.

“Fucking trash,” the Alpha snarled, “You think too highly of yourself. You’re scum, you were born to listen and apparently _you need to be reminded of that_.” He stepped back and chucked Will to the side, letting him stumbled to the stairs, half on the ground as he gripped one, still panting. “You’re _nothing_ , you’re filth, that’s all any Omega is. Your were made _for us_.” He kicked Will in the side, connected with his ribs, than his waist. “Get the fuck out, Will. Take a night to remind yourself just _what the fuck you are_.”

Will clawed at the stairs, pushed himself up despite the pain that erupted in his body. He clutched at the railing and made his way up the stairs, not looking back. The few patrons at the bar paid him no attention- seeing a bloodied Omega just meant he’d stepped out of line, and that was never their concern. It was never anyone’s concern, they could turn a blind eye and drink their beer and forget they ever saw him.

Will managed to get his way outside. It was late afternoon now, the sky was growing dark, rumbling low. Rain, and soon. Will leaned against the building, hugged himself tightly, and closed his eyes for a moment, still trying to find his breath.

He needed to go. Needed to get away, far away. They might come for him. They might teach him another lesson. They might hold him down and make him scream, make him thrash and beg that he had just _accepted_ what the world had handed to him.

He couldn’t go to his apartment. They could find him, they knew that was his space. He didn’t want to, anyway. There was nothing there for him.

There was only one place Will felt safe. With a shaky breath, he pushed himself off the wall, ducked his head down as the sky grumbled angrily over him, and began to long walk across the city.


	3. Part 3: You Never had a Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, the third and final part! Also, if anyone is interested in seeing the moth Will has on his chest, here's the [Cecropia Moth](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/ab/Cecropia_moth_with_wings_expanded.jpg).

_” I can stay here forever!_  
The hell is, I just can't remember  
I see myself with desperation  
This silent night of realization.”  
“Red City” – Stone Sour 

Alana was laughing, having set her knife down and holding her glass of beer in one hand. The sound was rich, pleasant, and her cheeks had a lovely hint of color to them. Ever since her first glass has disappeared, her teasing of Hannibal had grown. She had taken it upon herself to declare him _smitten_ , and while not the word he would use for his affections regarding Will, he allowed it.

“Those vegetables will not chop themselves,” he pointed out, slicing the liver into small pieces and settling them on a plate, to be thrown into a pan shortly and stir fried. Alana rolled her eyes.

“So am I going to get to go baby shopping?” she asked, setting her beer aside and turning back to the peppers in front of her. Hannibal choked, then began to laugh at her.

“Alana Bloom, you are beside yourself tonight. And I know it is not the beer.” Alana smiled, a flash of charming white, and shrugged her perfect shoulders.

“I’m just rather excited, Hannibal. Regardless of how you met him, the fact that you’re interested is enough. So, come on now, what color will the nursery be?”

Hannibal contemplated tossing something at her, when his doorbell broke the silence. Alana arched her eyebrow, and Hannibal gave her a shrug, setting his knife down. He left his apron on the counter after giving his hands a quick wash, and left her to continue as he made his way to the door. He was contemplating who could possibly have a reason to come to his home after dark, unannounced, when the open door revealed Will, arms around himself, wet to the bone and shivering.

Hannibal could see the cuts on his face, the blood that hadn’t washed away. He smelled desperation, and Will just stared at him with large, scared eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he started, “I- I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

Hannibal reached out, touched his shoulder, guided him in the door and closed it. Then, without a thought, he pulled Will into his arms, pressed him to his chest. Will nestled against him, reached his arms around and clutched at his back, trembling. Soothingly, Hannibal hushed him, rocked him as he heard the quiet sound of footsteps, leaving the kitchen. When he glanced up, Alana was staring, standing still and pale at the end of the hallway. Will shifted, peeked out, and Hannibal felt him tense.

“Will,” he began, “This is my dear friend, Dr. Alana Bloom. Alana...this is Will.” Hannibal made no move to remove his hold on the Omega, and Will did not pull away. Alana nodded, said nothing, and when Hannibal finally managed to get Will pulled back far enough, to get a look at his face, he frowned, then turned back to her. “Alana, would you be so kind as to get my medical kit, and meet me in my study?”

She nodded, then turned, taking up the stairs quickly to retrieve it from the closet it had been left in. Hannibal hadn’t needed it in a long time, and it was too large to keep stored in a bathroom inconspicuously.

“Come,” he whispered, guiding Will from the door, keeping one arm around him. They cut through the living room, and into a small room Will had not seen the previous night, one that hosted a desk with drawings spread out over it, pencils and a scalpel left to one side. “Sit,” Hannibal whispered, and Will listened settling down in the chair, grimacing. Hannibal could only imagine the reasons why. He reached up, gently touched Will’s cheek, avoiding the abrasions where he could see bits of glass sticking out. He assumed the absence of the Omega’s glasses explained it. “Tell me what happened.”

“I said no,” he whispered, to the sounds of Alana’s slight rustling as she entered. “He told me I had a john tonight. My boss did. I-I said no. I’m done. I’m not doing it anymore. I-I’m not _trash_ I won’t let them treat me like it.” He was trembling, badly, and Hannibal wondered how long he had been out in the rain, how far he had gone. He did not imagine Will lived in any respectable portion of the city, which meant the walk would have felt endless.

“Let me see it all,” Hannibal whispered, guiding Will’s tattered jacket off. It was heavy from the water, and Hannibal let it drop to the floor. The Omega pulled the sweater off his head, but his grip was iron when Hannibal tried to take it. He had to stroke Will’s knuckles before he would release it. Hannibal reached out, settled his hand along Will’s ribs, moved it gently down his side. The Omega winced, but did not pull away. “Nothing feels broken.” Without much thought, his hand ran along Will’s belly, and the boy whimpered. Hannibal pulled his hand back.

He turned to Alana, and she passed him the bag, which he settled on the floor and opened. Carefully he pulled out his gauze, disinfectant, small tweezers, and looked at Will with a sad sort of expression.

“I have to get the glass out,” he whispered, and Will was nodding, “It’s going to hurt.”

“I know.” That simple _I know_ made Hannibal ache down to his core. The Omega knew it would hurt, because everything hurt- everything always had. Hannibal knew this, and he hated it.

Inside, a hot coil was tightening, nestled in embers that burned, that left him hungry for the scent of blood.

Will tilted his head as Hannibal instructed, and carefully, Hannibal began to pluck the glass from his cheek, setting each piece up on his desk. Alana moved behind him, closer, and Will’s eyes darted to her, but he said nothing.

“Do you need anything else?” Hannibal shook his head, chest tightened as Will winced when he pulled a larger shard out.

“No, Alana. But thank you.” Hannibal heard her moving, then the drag of a chair, as she settled down behind him, still watching. He hadn’t expected her to leave, and truthfully, he wasn’t sure he wanted her to. She’d seen a glimpse into the world he was suddenly a part of now, with Will, and he thought it better she just see it all now.

“Last one,” Hannibal whispered, as he plucked the last shard free, then set the tweezers aside. He dabbed at the cuts with disinfectant, and Will hissed. Without much thought, Hannibal tried to soothe him, hushed and urged his body to relax. His pheromones worked, and Will eased, let Hannibal tape a small bandage over his cheek, before he moved to clean at his split lip. “You’re going to bruise,” he whispered, as he set the bloody swab aside with the rest of his used supplies. “Your ribs and side, I’m sure.” He grabbed the chair and pushed himself up. “I’m going to get you something for the pain, and prepare the bed for you to lay down.” He leaned down, pressed his mouth to Will’s temple, kissing and just taking in the soft trembles. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered, turning and heading out of the study, giving Alana a quick look that expressed simply,

_Watch him. Protect him._

*

Will didn’t want Hannibal to leave him, but he didn’t protest. He sat, feeling heavy, buzzing with pain. He glanced up only when the other Alpha- _Alana. He said her name was Alana_ moved, dropping down to where Hannibal had been between Will’s legs.

“Hi Will,” she offered, “I’m Alana. I’m a friend of Hannibal’s.” He nodded, and she reached out, tentatively touched his leg. It was gentle, and Will didn’t flinch away. She gripped his knee in response to the trust. “Will, what happened to you is wrong. Hannibal...he explained a little to me. But we can help you. I work with Omegas that come from positions like yours. We can fix this.”

“You can’t fix it,” Will whispered, felt her eyes struggling to stay on his face, dropping down to examine the moth on his chest, back up, then down to the beginnings of his sleeves. “You can’t go back and fix what’s happened to me.”

“No,” Alana whispered, her hands finding his arms, rubbing them. She didn’t use her pheromones on him, and Will respected that. He trusted Hannibal, he wanted him to- but she was a stranger still. “No, I can’t go back and erase anything. But I can make sure it doesn’t happen again. We can get you out of this.”

Her thumb slipped along his arm, towards the underside, and Will felt it run along the rough bump of a scar, over another, _another_. She paused, reached for his arm, and Will turned it, allowed her to run her fingers over one, up to another. Countless, endless small breaks in the smooth of his skin, barely visible with the dark ink etched over them.

“You’re right,” Will whispered, “You can’t erase it.” When Alana looked up at him, Will felt almost bad for the pain he saw in her eyes. He decided he liked her, liked her mouth that seemed like it would be kind when she smiled. Liked the way she smelled, and the fact that Hannibal must trust her.

He liked that most of all.

Alana pulled her hands back, just as Hannibal stepped back in. Will looked up, followed his gaze until the man was next to him, handing him a glass of water, dropping pills into his palm. “Aspirin,” Hannibal clarified, but it didn’t matter. Will realized he would have taken anything the man gave him. He tossed them into his mouth, took a drink of water, and once it was set aside Hannibal was reaching for him, helping him up. Will’s legs ached, screamed out at him, traveling up his side, and he must have made a noise- was sure he did- because Hannibal was gathering him up with ease, carrying him. Will didn’t fight it, leaned into his shoulder, watched Alana slowly disappear as he was taken from the room.

Will recognized Hannibal’s room, the lights on, and was content to be settled down into the bed. Hannibal’s hands worked at the button of his jeans, and Will lifted his head as he was carefully stripped of his shoes, jeans, even his socks- left in just his underwear. He didn’t mind.

Hannibal pulled at the blanket, wrapping it around Will, who nestled down into its soft warmth, letting his body begin to go lax. He was exhausted, but the pain was ebbing, the medicine kicking in. And Hannibal was close as he tucked him in, smelled so good and Will wanted nothing more than to curl up with him, to have him hold him again. He mewled as Hannibal brushed a hand over his forehead, checking for fever from the rain, and then his mouth replaced his palm.

“Rest,” he whispered, “You’re safe with me, dear Will.”

Will nodded, didn’t speak as Hannibal crossed the room, clicking the light off, pulling the door half shut behind him as he left. His body began to feel full of static, in his belly and up into his ribs, radiating out through his limbs. When he reached his head, Will was drowsy already, and allowed it to wash over him.

_You’re safe with me_.

Will did not doubt those words.

*

“Hannibal this is serious,” Alana said to him as he made his way down the stairs. She was looking frantic, and he could smell it on her. “We need to call the police.”

“What good will they do?” He walked past her, back towards the kitchen, heard her following.

“They’ll arrest them,” she pointed out, gawking as Hannibal washed his hands in the sink. His shirt had wet smudges, pink stains along the chest, but he ignored it. “They’ll put a stop to it.”

“Do you really believe that?” He turned, moving his hand as he spoke, so animated suddenly that Alana leaned away. “Do you really believe it will be stopped, Alana? Do you truly have faith in the system you want to trust? If the police would handle these matters, why do you need to advocate for the cause so much? Why am I constantly hearing you speak of so many Omegas dying because of trafficking? Alana, don’t be blind. Open your eyes.” His hand fell to his side and he stepped away from the sink, moving towards the center counter. “ _See_ Alana. This city is corrupt to its core, and if we call the police they will take Will away.”

Hannibal’s voice broke at the end, and he looked away. That was a fear, he realized- the Omega being pulled from him, ripped away, when all he wanted was to keep him close. He didn’t remember the moment he ahd begun to truly care so deeply, in ways he had never experienced, but here he was. And Hannibal was beyond fighting himself over this.

“The Omegas you help, they come from all over the country. Some of them are local, yes. But not enough. I wouldn’t doubt that Will’s...boss has customers in the police. He is best simply eliminated.”

“ _Eliminated_! Hannibal...” Alana shook her head, reached up and pressed her temples. “What are you even saying.”

“The truth, in all its simplicity.” She sighed, shaking her head, and Hannibal tied his apron back on.

“You’re still making dinner?” she asked, perplexed, and Hannibal nodded as he picked up his knife, cutting into the hunk of liver that he had left when Will arrived.

“Yes,” he whispered, thinking of sweet Will drifting off into sleep, nestled down in his bed. He thought of his hand on the boy’s belly, of the odd possessiveness it brought when he he touched him. When he looked at Alana, his eyes were calm, his voice steady. “My Will will be hungry.”

Alana said nothing, she read the possessiveness, and simply picked up her own knife in silence.

*

Will shifted, rolling over, his eyes shooting open as he pressed down on his injured side. He groaned, sitting up and shaking his head, forcing sleep away. There was a gently sting in his cheek, his lip, but nothing he couldn’t live with. He tossed the blanket back, ran his hand along his side and felt where the bruises would form. His hand curved over his stomach, rested there, felt an odd warmth, almost a cramp but more a tightness than anything he couldn’t explain.

Carefully, he stood from the bed, stretched until his bones and muscle were popping into place. Then, in just his underwear, he made his way to the door and stepped out into the hallway. He inhaled, smelled something cooking, and his stomach grumbled, betraying him. He frowned, cursed himself silently, and walked towards the stairs, down them. The first thing he heard was gentle footsteps, then a flash of movement as Alana left the dining room, wine glass in hand. She stopped when she noticed him, and Will felt color rising in his cheeks. He’d been naked around more strangers than he cared to consider, but accidental nudity was still enough to make him forget how to speak.

“Hi,” he finally offered, and Alana flashed him a smile. He had been right, her smile was kind, lovely.

“Hi,” she returned. “Come on down, Hannibal is finishing up dinner.” Will nodded, grateful that she forgave his state of undress, and even enjoyed the hand she pressed between his shoulder blades as they walked towards the kitchen. The air grew heavy with the rich scents, and Will fought down mentally to keep his stomach at bay. Hannibal was standing behind the stove, stirring around the contents of a pan with a wooden spoon. He looked up, and the smile he flashed at seeing Will made the Omega’s knees weak.

“Hello Will. Did you get some sleep?”

“A little. Was I out long?” Hannibal shook his head.

“No, perhaps an hour at most. You have impeccable timing, dinner is almost read. Alana, would you be so kind as to help Will find something to wear, so he can be more comfortable?” Alana nodded, and with a last look ad Hannibal’s smile, Will allowed himself to be guided back out of the kitchen, Alana setting her wine glass on the table before they headed back upstairs.

Will stood in the center of the bedroom as Alana went through Hannibal’s clothing. “He’s not a simple man,” she said with a laugh, finally producing a pair of soft blue cotton pants. “I would bet he hasn’t worn these yet.”

Will took them with a thankful nod and slipped them on, then, draped over a chair, saw his own plaid shirt from the night before. He grabbed it, slipping it on and buttoning it about half way, feeling better not being wrapped completely in things Hannibal owned.

Even though the idea was appealing.

He allowed Alana to guide him back downstairs, where she poured him water into a wine glass- saying something about how she felt alcohol wasn’t the best choice for him at the time. Will didn’t argue, was happy with that, and was taking a sip when Hannibal appeared, balancing three plates. Alana was quick to take one, set it down in front of her seat, as Hannibal set a plate in front of Will, and one in front of his own seat. He disappeared then, to retrieve his own glass, and Will looked down, studying the food.

It smelled heavenly, made his mouth water, his stomach threaten to grumble- but in his mind, he kept hearing _he is cannibalizing his victims_ , and he wasn’t sure what he was fighting down in his stomach- sickness or hunger.

“What is it?” Will asked, trying to sound inquisitive, as Hannibal settled down with a smile.

“A stir fry,” he offered, “Some peppers, greens, and liver.”

_Her liver is reported as missing, along with strips of muscle along her back._

Will hesitated, stared at the food as Alana and Hannibal ate gently. He ran a finger along his fork, trying to keep the tension in his body contained, lest either smell it on him.

_You know me now. And what do they call me?_ Hannibal voice rang in his head, fresh in the alley, their second encounter, and Will had known, and he closed his eyes for a moment and heard his own reply, _The Chesapeake Ripper_.

Will knew what was on his plate.

“Will?” He opened his eyes, looked at Hannibal who was eyeing him with concern. “Do you feel ill? You do not have to eat if you are not up to it.”

There was concern in his voice, tender and soft and something Will had only ever heard from him. Carefully, he lifted his fork, skewering a hunk of liver with a few of the vegetables. “No,” he whispered, lifting it, looking at it for just a moment. “I’m fine.”

He pushed it into his mouth, savored the flavor and warmth, and knew in that moment it didn’t matter. Hannibal could serve him up a raw human heart, and he would gladly take a bite of it, if it pleased him. The world around him and its order no longer mattered, and Will was glad to step away from it.

*

It had been hard to get Alana to go, but Hannibal assured her he had the situation under control. She had still stood in the doorway, eyes narrowed, and pressed a finger into his chest telling him to _watch himself_ and that she would be back in the morning.

He’d grabbed her hand and kissed her finger, made her relax. He had no desire to have a pissing contest with the other Alpha.

Once The door was closed and locked, and Alana gone, Hannibal made his way back upstairs, towards the bedroom where he had sent Will. He found him, stripped out of his clothing and back down to his underwear- Hannibal noted this must be his choice of comfort clothing level, as he had slept nearly as stripped down the night before- and walked over, unbuttoning his shirt.

“How do you feel?” Will shrugged a shoulder, and Hannibal watched his eyes as they took in each button that was undone.

“I ache,” Will admitted, “But I’ll live. Thanks to you. I owe you for...taking me in.” Hannibal smiled, stripped his shirt off and, deciding to match Will’s start of undress, moved on to work on his pants. Will looked away then, and studied his own hands until Hannibal was crawling into the bed, slipping beneath the blanket. He lifted an arm and Will slipped in against him, pressing his mouth to the side of his chest once, his hand resting on it, fingers playing in the Alpha’s chest hair.

“I’m just glad you came to me,” Hannibal admitted, giving him a gentle squeeze, fingers tracing in the dark along the ink on Will’s upper arms. “I won’t let them get to you, dear Will.”

“And I believe you.” Will chuckled to himself. “Considering who you are and all. Considering what I _ate_ for you.” Hannibal reached across his own body, tracing other shapes on Will’s lower arm now.

“You ate willingly.” Will nodded. Hannibal found it satisfying that they were speaking openly of his night-time activities, of what he served at his table. The Omega, if he was disturbed at the thought of eating human flesh, kept it in well- and Hannibal commended that.

“Pretty sure I’d take a bite out of a raw heart if you asked me to.” Will laughed, nervously, and Hannibal thought to comment back, teasingly, as his fingers slipped to the underside of Will’s arms-

He paused, felt the break in the texture of skin, the risen, slightly rougher feeling of scars, well hidden. He heard Will’s breath hitch, and carfully he traced one, moved up to another, another. _There were so many_.

“Will,” he breathed, and the Omega pulled away, curling up into him.

“I told you my story,” Will whispered, his breath on Hannibal’s skin, sinking down through his pores and into his tissues. “Did it sound pretty?”

“No,” Hannibal admitted.

“I needed to match it. Needed to be ugly with it. I didn’t know how to deal with my body, with myself, with everyone around me. I was fucked up and strung out half the time, had a stranger between my legs whose name I never learned and it _didn’t matter_ because the next one would just replace his fate. I did it to feel again. I did it and I hate that I ever did.” He tried to curl his arms under himself, but Hannibal shifted, pulled Will up as he rolled onto his side. He took one arm, held it as he traced the scars with his fingers. He leaned done, pressed his mouth along one, than another.

“So you painted over your history with fantasy,” he breathed, and Will nodded. “But fantasy does not ever replace reality.”

“No matter how hard I try, I’m still what I was born as. Still... _trash_.” Hannibal held him tighter, lifted his mouth and pressed it to Will’s jawline.

“I will gut you,” he hissed, “if you ever say that again.” He mouthed up to Will’s ear, nipped at his ear lobe, felt him squirm. “You are something precious, little Will.”

“I was never treated like something _precious_ ,” Will retorted, tipped his head and allowed Hannibal to breath against his pulse point. “Not before you.”

“Then I will make up for each past transgression.” He rolled Will into his back, held himself over him, bowing his head to kiss at the wings of the moth on his chest. Will arched, exhaled, gave a small cry when Hannibal wrapped his mouth around one nipple and sucked, gently, before his teeth and tongue tormented the bud. The Omega’s head tossed, and Hannibal fisted his hand in the sheet, his body aching. He was half hard already, and could smell Will’s arousal, felt it crackling in the air. How quickly they had come to this.

Hannibal did not want to question it.

He trailed his mouth down Will’s belly, was gentle- remembered the way the boy had flinched earlier, and imagined he had been struck here. His hand on Will’s side only ghost, did not touch until he reached his hip. He did not want to cause him any pain, not at all.

Will arched, and Hannibal kissed his belly again, the soft flesh that he dared to, for a moment, imagine could be tender one day, that Will would love his hand there when his heat struck and he wanted to sink down onto Hannibal, to let his knot fill him and keep his seed inside him-

Hannibal growled, tugging Will’s boxer briefs down and revealing his cock, pushing the thoughts away. _Too much that you cannot take_. He dragged his tongue along the underside as it rested against Will’s belly, and the Omega jerked, gasping, and then he was sucking on the head and Will was thrashing beneath him, losing himself completely. Hannibal felt the heat from his body, the sweetness like velvet from his pheromones, he was releasing them and begging Hannibal, _begging_ him to take, and Hannibal was sure he had no idea what he was doing.

He had been on suppressants so long, he probably had very little voluntary control over his pheromones.

Will reached down, buried a hand in Hannibal’s hair as the Alpha tugged his underwear down further, broke away from the hold and his cock to guide them off his legs and toss them away. Then he was back, spreading Will’s thighs, guiding one up over his shoulders as his fingers dipped down, pressing against his hole. Will gasped, was slick, and Hannibal could imagine pushing himself into that heat, pinning the Omega down and taking him until but were satiated, left a heap of sweaty flesh on the bed. He imagined biting him and marking him, he imagined taking him to keep-

He imagined, as he slipped two fingers into his wet heat, of bonding with him.

Hannibal tried to push the idea away, but it was impossible. Will felt like a level of heaven around his fingers, and he fucked him thoroughly, making him squirm, as he ran his tongue along his cock, sucking on the head occasionally. Will gasped, and when Hannibal rested a hand on his belly he mewled, a broken and needy sound, and Hannibal wanted him _so badly_ his entire body ached.

Yet he would deny himself.

He added a third finger, pulled his hand down to grip the base of Will’s cock, to stroke what he did not slip into his mouth, and the Omega’s breathing escalated, a broken, “Hann-ibal,” falling from him lips, his body tightening around his fingers. “Fuck, I-I’m gonna-“

Hannibal pushed deeper, harder, and the Omega screamed out to him, arched his aching body as he emptied into Hannibal’s mouth. The Alpha swallowed down, once, twice, every drop of sweetness his body would give. Then, and only when when Will fell to the mattress, catching his breath, did he push himself up onto his knees, reaching into his own underwear and pull his cock free. He stroked his fingers slick from Will’s body, knew the Omega’s thighs were wet, knew he could bring him off again easily if he were only to slip inside-

“Fuck,” Hannibal cursed, and he knew Will was watching. The boy reached down, slipped his hand between his own thighs, was inside himself and gasping, finding and holding Hannibal’s eyes.

“Pretend it’s me,” he whispered, and Hannibal felt pressure at the base of his spine, his head going to static. “Pretend it’s me, because _I wish it was_.” Hannibal arched then, as Will gave a moan and he knew the boy was getting off again, pushed his head back and let the pressure ease out of is body, out onto the sheets and a few pearly drops on Will’s thigh, to trickle down into the slick mess he had become.

Hannibal slumped, attempting to catch his breath, and Will was laughing suddenly. Hannibal looked down at him, and the Omega smiled, a true smile, going right up to his eyes and making Hannibal’s heart skip every other beat.

“We need a shower,” he whispered, “I can’t imagine the mess I’d be if you _actually_ fucked me.” Hannibal smiled at how brass he could be, as Will sat up and threw an arm around his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss. Hannibal dominated his mouth, tasted every bit of emotion in him, and he was falling, so far into Will that he could not see the light of the world, could feel only the flutter of the wings belonging to all the moths that told silent stories beneath the boy’s skin.

*

When Will awoke, he was naked and pressed partially into the mattress, at an odd angle somewhere between his side and belly. He sighed, enjoying the weight of a body pressed against him, holding him down- a flesh blanket that lived and breathed with him.

Hannibal was still asleep, Will could tell, and he let his eyes fall closed again, focusing on the Alpha’s breathing, the feeling of his body’s heat melting into Will’s skin, the feeling of his chest hair, the way even his legs kept Will pinned.

He felt possessed, owned. For the first time, it felt _good_.

Hannibal shifted, and his mouth was pressing to Will’s neck, kissing over and over again, his hand finding Will’s uninjured side and stroking. It slipped onto his belly, and Will relaxed into the touch, felt a change in his body as every muscle turned to water, as Hannibal melted into his shape, nuzzled into his curls, rubbed along him in a way that would have been arousing, but Will felt almost drowsy suddenly.

In the back of his mind, he knew it was Hannibal’s pheromones, and he realized the Alpha, half asleep, was acting completely on his biology and not on his own choices. Will sucked on his lower lip, felt Hannibal’s hand stroking, felt his body beginning to want, through the relaxed haze. His stomach felt tight, and Will couldn’t place what was going on, what the Alpha was doing to him- or prepping him for- didn’t know why he was reacting this way, what had been going on with him ever since he’d met him.

Will almost wanted to explore it further, but then Hannibal was fully awake, and suddenly the pheromones were gone, and Will was left simply in his arms. Not a bad thing, not- until the door bell was ringing before Will could even greet the man. Hannibal made a low sound in his throat, kissed the back of Will’s neck one last time, then pushed himself up, climbing from the bed. Will rolled onto his back, watched him locate a pair of soft cotton pants to slip into, and then make his way, leaving the Omega alone in the bed.

Will stretched, tried to listen but the house was too vast. He shrugged, then pushed himself up, finding the pants he had worn the night before and slipping into them, then heading out of the bedroom. He was halfway down the stairs when Alana appeared, followed by Hannibal. She stopped, gave Will a look, then a nod in greeting.

“Good morning.”

“Mornin’,” he offered as he made his way down the rest of the stairs. Will watched her eyes drop, once, to his chest and the color there, and then back up.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” Will admitted, looking at his side. The bruises were blooming, lilacs and buttercups against his otherwise pale skin. “I look like shit.”

“You look lovely,” Hannibal said, moving up behind Alana, settling a hand on her lower back in a friendly gesture as he gave Will a small but serious smile. Will felt his body trying to relax, realized only from the slight widening of Alana’s pupils that it was Hannibal’s doing.

He let it happen. Will let his muscles go lax, and gave a lazy smile.

“If you say so.” Hannibal’s smile grew then, and Alana looked away, as if she was intruding on a private affair.

*

Hannibal invited Alana to the kitchen with him while he sent Will upstairs to shower. They were not two steps into the kitchen when she began with, “You’re using your pheromones on him.”

“Yes.” Hannibal set to looking through his refrigerator, pulling out eggs and a container of freshly ground sausage- he was waiting for that victim to appear in the news stories. “Will you be joining us for breakfast?”

“You never use your pheromones. You once told me it was a rule of yours.” She folded her arms, watching him as he began prepping the food. “What are you planning with this boy?”

“To get him out of the mess his life has become.” Hannibal cracked an egg in the pan, tossing the shell away. “Is that so terrible of me, Alana?”

“Have you fucked him yet?” Hannibal stopped, staring at her before he frowned.

“Hardly appropriate, Alana.”

“Be honest with me, Hannibal.” The doctor sighed, cracking another egg into the pan.

“No.” Alana nodded, taking a step closer.

“Do you want to?”

“Alana-“

“-Because you’re acting like he’s your mate already.” Hannibal, who had been reaching for his spatula, froze, not fully curling his fingers around it. He watched her, trying to push her words around his head, to force them into an order where he could deny them. “Sure, you can care for him- you can clean him up and try to protect him and feed him, maybe if you did one or two it’d be...normal. But _this_ Hannibal, this isn’t just intrigue.” She made it all the way to the counter, laid her hands on it and leaned towards him. “And using your pheromones, it’s unlike you, but not your biology. You’re trying to show him you can care for him, protect him. You...you want to bond with him.”

Hannibal hesitated, then finally lifted his spatula, shuffling the eggs around and pan scrambling them. “I have said nothing of the sort,” he defended, “I am attracted to Will, intrigued. I do not find the situation he is in to be an enjoyable one. I would like to see him out of it.”

“And then what? Set him on the right path and let him go?” Hannibal frowned, kept silent, reaching for the container of sausage and tossing some in, adding another egg. He knew his answer, knew also if he said it how Alana would react and retort.

He didn’t want Will to leave. He didn’t ever want to see the boy go.

_And that’s why you won’t take him, because you’re afraid you’ll betray yourself, you’ll beg to keep him_.

He hated himself for knowing the truth. He hated Alana, for a moment, for knowing it as well, even if he denied it.

“Look Hannibal, you can say whatever you want to, but I see you, I _know_ you, better than you think. A lot better.” She flicked her eyes along his counter, seemed to grow uneasy for a moment. “Even if I pretend to myself that I don’t.” Alana sighed, and Hannibal smelled the discomfort on her, despite her attempt to hide it. And suddenly, the conversation was not about he and Will, but something far darker. “And to answer your question, I won’t be staying for breakfast. I have a lecture to give, I simply wanted to check in.” She looked at her watch, frowning slightly. “In fact I should go. Please apologize to Will for me, that I did not get to say goodbye.”

He turned, and Hannibal hesitated only a moment before he followed her, towards the door, catching up as she stopped to step into her heels.

“Alana-“ She held her hand up, shaking her head, and Hannibal pressed his lips closed.

“Don’t Hannibal. Don’t lie to me, and don’t try to explain. You fool the world, but the world doesn’t know you like I do.” She reached out, pressed her hand to his chest, giving him a sad smile. “You think I don’t know, but Hannibal you’re an open book to me. I just care too much to stop reading, even when the words fade to running ink.” She pulled her hand away, moving to the door and opening it, taking one step out. Then, stopping, Alana turned and Hannibal caught her eyes, the brilliant crystalline sea that could drown anyone caught off guard. “Whatever you do,” she said, “you protect him. Take him from them, Hannibal- and make sure they can never take him back.”

Hannibal watched her leave at that, remaining in the doorway until she was driving away, and he was brought back to by the smell of something burning. Cursing himself, he slammed the door and hurried back to the kitchen, towards the breakfast that had been left to ruin.

Had Hannibal stopped to think on it, he wouldn’t be able to remember the last time he had ruined a meal.

*

After his shower, Will dressed in his jeans again, tossed on his worn out flannel shirt. He had no other clothing and didn’t want to rifle through Hannibal’s, considered going back to his apartment for some-

_No, they’ll find you_. Will frowned, rolling his sleeves up and rubbing one hand along his inner arm, feeling the ridges of his scars. Reminding himself why they couldn’t find him, why he couldn’t go back.

_You’re worth more than that. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise again._ His hand traveled up farther, along the smooth patch that pumped suppressants into his system. His pills were at home, and while he might be able to go a day without them without much change, more than that and he’d feel it. His hormones would be noticeable, everyone would know-

He dind’t know if the patch on his arm alone would be enough to keep a heat away. It had been so long he was sure his body was yearning for it, a return to normal patterns. He sucked on his lip, winced at the ached in his cheek- he had removed the bandage, looked at his cuts in the mirror after his shower. They would heal, they wouldn’t show, but he would always remember.

Will dug the blunt tips of his nails around the patch, for a brief moment, then tugged his hand away, forcing himself to head downstairs. Hannibal was setting the table, and there was the faint smell of something burnt in the air.

“Did you burn something?” Will settled down in his seat, and he swore there was a hint of color to the doctor’s cheeks.

“I spent a moment too long bidding Alana goodbye. Our first breakfast was sadly unsalvageable.” He set a plate in front of Will, and the Omega reached for the glass of orange juice, taking a sip. “She wishes you well, and apologized for being unable to stay long enough to say so herself.”

“I like her,” Will admitted, after he took a sip. “She seems nice enough. Plus you like her.” He watched Hannibal study him, wondered what the Alpha saw.

“I do.” There was a pause, then, “You have quite the faith in me, Will.”

“Hard to not. No one has ever bothered to give a shit about me before.” He picked up his fork, eyeing the scramble on his plate, and then asked, without much emotion in his voice, “Did they have a name?” Hannibal paused, hand resting on the back of his chair, before he settled down, reaching for his own glass.

“Yes, he did. They always do.” Will nodded, didn’t feel his stomach turn. Honestly, he was hungry- he couldn’t believe he was, with how Hannibal had fed him the past two days, but he was. He was sure his body was making up for the years of missed meals.

He felt the Alpha watching him, and picked his fork up, skewering a few pieces of each and sausage and popping them in his mouth without hesitation. Then, as he swallowed, he felt it- a wave washing over him of heat and he realized it was _pride_ coming from Hannibal, and his body turned to fiery static and Will was smiling. Hannibal reached over, ran his hand along Will’s arm, and the Omega could have purred.

They were carrying their plates into the kitchen when Will thought to ask Hannibal about taking him to his apartment again. Just for his suppressants. Maybe some clothes- but that was making the assumption that he was staying with the Alpha for an elongated amount of time. Will wasn’t even sure if he was sleeping there that night.

He set his plate in the sink and moved back as Hannibal filled the space, running the water. Will reached for his patch again, playing with the edge, worrying at his tender, healing lip. He could feel the edge lifting, knew it had to be changed in a few days. He was fairly sure he had one or two in the apartment.

“Will?”

Will looked up at Hannibal, followed his eyes to his arm, realized he had the patch a third of the way lifted from his arm now, was still fiddling with it. He groaned, pressing it back down to his skin, shaking his head. “Sorry,” he mumbled, “Sorry. I uh, I need my suppressants. They’re in my apartment. I mean I should probably go anyway, get out of your hair.”

Hannibal slid his eyes over to Will, and the Omega waited as he finished the few dishes, then dried his hands on a towel. He walked past Will, motioning for him to follow, and Will did, silently, out into the sitting room. Hannibal settled on the couch, reached for Will, pulled the boy down onto his lap, and Will gave a little sound, but settled in easily, feeling Hannibal nuzzle his neck, kiss his pulse softly.

“Don’t take them,” he whispered, “Don’t go back there. Don’t ask me to take you back there.” Hannibal slipped his arms around Will, and in that moment, despite the openness of the room, the fact that all Hannibal was doing was holding him, not pinning him down into a mattress, not digging his teeth into his flesh, he felt possessed. More so than he ever had.

“I’ll be a mess without them,” Will whispered, and he was picking at the patch on his arm again. “I don’t know if this patch alone will keep my heat away. My pheromones-“

“Are natural,” Hannibal chimed in, pressing his forehead to Will’s. “You should not have to try to restrict them, dear Will.”

“I’ll go into heat,” Will whimpered, felt himself beginning to tremble. Hannibal’s arms held him tighter, his hands radiating heat down into Will’s body. He was terrified of experiencing that again.

“Why does it cause you fear, darling?” Will shivered then, for more pleasant reasons, and bowed his head, nuzzling against Hannibal’s neck.

“I felt so out of myself, my body, the one time it happened. Just fucked an inch close to the end of my life, no one cared and I was sick, for days after. I hurt, I wouldn’t move, they just...fucked me. Endlessly.” Hannibal continued to stroke his back, felt the knots of his spine and Will relaxed despite his tension that should have welled in his body.

“I would take care of you,” Hannibal whispered, “I would guide you, Will. You would not be alone.” Will inhaled, silently, kissed his neck once, and tried to imagine Hannibal pressed along him, naked with flesh that would feel chilled to his heated skin. He sucked on his lower lip, ignored the sting it caused, imagined the Alpha pushing into his body- he wanted it, after all, wouldn’t deny that- imagined screaming for him until his throat was hoarse, until he has cum so many times his vision was pure white. He felt Hannibal’s knot pushing into him, forcing him to remain tied to the Alpha until his body were to fully relax-

He imagined Hannibal’s mouth on his, along his neck, biting and marking and _claiming_ and suddenly it wasn’t just his heat, it was something beyond even that- Hannibal was marking his territory, was bonding with him and filling the bone arena of Will’s skull with his mind.

Will whimpered, squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted it, all of it, _so badly_ , because Hannibal made his belly ache and his blood hot like no one ever had. He was attracted to the Alpha, and Will had given up on finding attraction in anyone. Plus, the man showed him a kindness he had never seen-

Will wasn’t sure if it was _love_ , had been fed bullshit when he was younger that he would have to be sure he loved someone to bond with them. He didn’t care. He could learn it, if he needed to. Whatever this was, it was enough. And he needed someone to clutch, so badly, when for so long he had drowned alone.

His arms were aching suddenly, scars feeling alive beneath his tattoos, and he whispered quietly, “Okay. No more suppressants.” He found Hannibal’s ear, nipped at his lobe playfully. “But you have to promise to take care of me.”

Hannibal moved him then, holding him and shifting him from his lap to fall to his back on the couch, stretching out along him, pinning him, finding his mouth and claiming it. Will squirmed, stayed captured and loved it, kissed him back until he was dizzy and drunk on it all.

“Always,” Hannibal breathed against his mouth, pulling back slightly. “My sweet little Omega, I would cherish you.”

Will whimpered, kissed him again, and believed him, would have believed anything Hannibal said in that moment. Would have done anything, as well, that the Alpha asked.

Will was won, conquered, felt it and knew it in his bones, and allowed a warm flood of relief to over take him, as he managed to get his hands up into Hannibal’s hair, kissed him again. Kissed him with every last breath he had in his body.

*

The city slept, fitfully, as the pair made their way through the street, the back alleys only. Currently, they were hidden behind the bar, Hannibal zipping up his plastic suit, Will holding the old style medical bag that contained his tools. The Omega, if he was afraid, showed not a sign. All Hannibal felt from him was a rush of relief-

And a sweetness growing in clarity. Hannibal presumed within forty-eight hours his system would be flushed of the suppressants. And there was so much to do before then.

Once Hannibal was satisfied that he was prepared, he nodded to Will who unlocked the back door to the bar- the spare key having been in the same spot for years, and they crept into the large storage room. With not a speck of light, Hannibal kept a gloved hand pressed to Will’s back, allowing him to feel his way around a room he at least had experienced before. Will found the door, cracked it open, found the hallway deserted. He could hear the hum of the television, but no voices.

Will had told him the bartender would have a key to get them down into the basement, that the bar was always empty at two AM, when he was counting through the drawer. Will had seen him physically throw people out. He kept a very strict time schedule.

Hannibal was sure Will may have almost felt bad, at the man’s fate. Almost. But Hannibal had been very clear- not a single reminder of the life Will had been forced to live.

They would all die.

Will walked out, first, leaving Hannibal in the hallway. He had set Hannibal’s bag down, and the Alpha watched, around the corner, at the Beta’s surprise at seeing Will. Will was relaxed, and Hannibal was proud of him for it- though he could tell the Beta noticed the changes in his pheromones already. Distracting changes, if one allowed themselves to be pulled down.

Hannibal pressed to the wall as the Beta moved from behind the bar. He waited, breath held calmly in his lungs, until Will rounded the corner, took a step past him, and the Beta was there then, stopping and staring at him with confused eyes.

Hannibal didn’t hesitate.

He grabbed the man, holding his head steady, and jerked his arms, snapping his neck and allowing his body to crumple to the ground with ease. He would, later, return and make the body more presentable, but for now he had other priorities.

When he turned his head, Will was staring- eyes wide. It was the first time he had seen Hannibal actually kill a man, and not just by a body, and Hannibal smelled excitement on him- a mingling of sexual need and adrenaline. A pounding of his heart. He offered the Omega comforting smile, nodded down towards the body, and he scrambled for the key that had been in the man’s hand, grabbing it and turning to the door, very quietly unlocking it.

Voices rushed up to meet them, only two- Hannibal looked at Will, wondering where the Beta body guards he had been told of were, and Will shrugged a shoulder. Hannibal only nodded- so be it, they would be quick.

He allowed Will to go first, as a distraction, as he pulled a lean, freshly cleaned knife from his bag. His scalpel and the rest of his supplies he would have to return for. The gutting would have to come first.

_Such a shame to rush good work_.

Hannibal heard the voices- shocked, made out Will’s name, a female voice chuckling low, and then a loud _Knew you’d come back, trash like you doesn’t have anywhere else to fuckin’ go_ and he was _done_. He took the stairs two at a time, Will’s former boss raising his eyes at the noise as Hannibal grabbed the Beta woman, pulling her back to his chest. She thrashed, such a skinny little thing, and he locked eyes with the Alpha as he drew the knife across her throat, forcing her skin to open up, before he shoved her down to the floor. She grasped at her throat, but the wound was deep- she would bleed out, quickly.

Hannibal moved up to Will, stood by his side, as the other Alpha flicked his eyes between them.

“You’re the guy who bought him,” he finally said, and Hannibal offered a devilish smile.

“Men are not bought,” he stated, taking a step towards him. The other Alpha tried to move back, tripped over his chair and fell to the ground. The doctor made his way around the desk, stood over him and stared down, his devilish smile growing to a wicked grin, the points of his teeth like spears, and added, “Men must be _earned_.”

He dropped down over him, straddled him and fought off his thrashing fists, tearing his button down open and then pushing the knife into his body, just beneath his ribs. Hannibal dragged it down, opened the Alpha like a book, reveled in the smell of blood and body and the strangled cry that left the man’s lips. He’s take it, take every sound until this bastard was simple silence-

And silence could be forgotten, easily. _So easily_.

*

Will watched as Hannibal gut the man who had, for years, been the ruler of his broken kingdom. Then, when his cries became strangled gurgles, became labored breaths, he made his way back upstairs for Hannibal’s bag. When he returned, the Alpha was no longer moving.

“What are you taking?” Will asked, found he felt no fear over the question or the answer. Hannibal would not harm him, would _care_ for him, only. Will shifted, his belly feeling heavy, aching a bit. The spot on his arm where his patch once rested itched. He tried to ignore it all.

“Do you have a preference?” Will shook his head, fished a scalpel out and passed it to his lover, who set back to the body. “Lungs and heart, then. His abdomen is ruined- a shame I could not take my time.”

“You can still make the presentation alarming.” Will offered a smile and Hannibal nodded, setting to work slipping his hands up into the Alpha’s chest cavity. Will watched, head tilted, listened to the sucking sounds as tissue was pulled free. His stomach stayed settled. He felt a calm he had never experienced in his life.

After a time, he left Hannibal to his work, turning and looking over the Beta woman who lay face down in her own blood. He was careful not to step in it, but toed at her hip, jostling her body slightly.

“She will not be good,” Hannibal said, once his prizes had been safely wrapped in plastic and stowed in his bag.

“I wouldn’t want to eat her anyway. Not sure how he did.” Will grinned, chuckling as Hannibal laughed, the doctor walking over, pressing his mouth to Will’s temple and kissing him.

“My sweet boy,” he whispered, “You have so much more courage than I would have thought.”

“Maybe I just have a stronger stomach.” Will let his hand ghost over his belly, winced. “Which hurts, by the way.”

“It won’t, soon. You’ll be tender until your heat comes.” Hannibal nuzzled his hair, wanted to wrap his arms around him, Will could feel it, but the Alpha resisted. He was bloody and did not need to dirty Will. “Let us finish up and get you home.”

_Home_.

Will liked the sound of that.

*

Hannibal had been asleep, blissful in a world of liquid black ink, when he felt the first slid of Will’s body, along his side, nearly rutting against his thigh. A hand was clutching at his bare chest, a voice rising in soft whines, and the body against him was _so hot_ it could have been hell wrapped in flesh. He cracked his eyes open, just as Will climbed onto him, straddled him and ground down against his clothed cock, tossing his head in the dark.

“Hannibal,” he whined, running his hands down his body, “I-I can’t...I’m going _crazy_.” He reached up, tugged at his own curls and moaned, a sweet sound that had Hannibal fully awake. “Please, _help me_.”

Hannibal reached for his hips, stroked them as he let Will grind down. He could feel, through his underwear and Will’s, that the Omega was wet, dripping with need. His heat was on him in full force-

And Hannibal couldn’t be happier.

He grabbed the boy, pulled him down and rolled them over, so Will was pinned him. The Omega squirmed, pushing up to try and get friction along his cock, and Hannibal appeased him by pressing his hand down, stroking him with the cloth of his underwear. “Hush darling,” he breathed, “I’m here. I’m going to take care of you.”

Will didn’t fight, didn’t protest, and Hannibal stripped him of the only article of clothing he wore, tossing it aside and sucking on the hot, tender flesh of his thigh. The Omega squirmed, gasped as Hannibal kissed up, up, until his mouth was around the head of his cock. Hannibal held his hips down, kept Will from bucking, bobbed his head until his boy was crying out, shaking wildly, gasping-

“I-I could cum,” he breathed, and Hannibal smiled, smiled because he would have the boy undone so many times before he finally passed out from exhaustion- and when the Omega woke up, it would all begin again. Until he was through with his heat, it would be a viciously sweet cycle of Hannibal bringing him off again, and again, _and again_.

Hannibal slipped a hand below him, pushed two fingers up into Will’s slick hole, and that threw the boy over the edge, had him cumming along Hannibal’s tongue, down his throat with a sharp cry. Hannibal sucked him, fucked him through it, until Will was gasping for breath and he was pulling off, smiling.

Will didn’t shy away from his fingers as he explored him, added a third and watched his face scrunch up in the dark. “How do you feel?”

“H-hot,” Will admitted, spreading his legs. “Like I’m on fire.” He pushed down against Hannibal’s fingers, tossing his head. “N-not enough.”

“I know,” Hannibal whispered, pulling his fingers out. He was achingly hard, thinking about Will like this, wet and ready and wanting, and it felt nearly impossible to keep from shoving into him, until he had nothing left to give, until he could fuck Will into the mattress and leave him sobbing.

“It’s going to be okay,” Hannibal soothed, guiding Will onto his stomach and grabbing his ass, parting it so he could lap at his hole with the flat of his tongue. Will mewled, squirmed, whined.

“ _Hannibal_ ,” he pleaded, “please, I-I just want your cock. _You promised_.” Hannibal chuckled, pressed his tongue into Will’s body, and the boy thrashed. He _had_ promised, only two nights prior when they had returned so early that, truly, it was no longer night- when Will had watched Hannibal do what, he had always presumed, he did best.

Will had been almost coy about it, making sure that Hannibal would actually take him during his heat. _He’d need it_ , and Hannibal agreed- but nothing before. That had been a challenge itself for the Alpha, who wanted nothing more than to slide into Will’s waiting body as he curled up around the Omega at night- could smell his body’s changes and new his heat was _close_.

Even now, he wanted to bury himself inside him, but he knew Will needed more. Needed to be so thoroughly spent that he might sleep for a short spell, so Hannibal could recover to take him again.

“Hannibal!” the boy cried, bucking back against his mouth and Hannibal lapped against his hole again, wrapping his hand around his cock- which was hard again, he was sure achingly so- and stroked. Will trembled, squirmed, clutched up at the pillow and bit into it was he began to sob. Hannibal pressed his tongue into the Omega, twisted his fist around the sensitive head of his cock, and Will screamed into the pillow, shaking as he came a second time.

He collapsed down to the mattress, writhing and panting, and Hannibal took the moment to strip of his underwear, stroking a hand over his own throbbing shaft, exhaling heavily. “Roll over,” He breathed, and Will did, over onto his back, spreading his thighs which would have glistened had there been more than the low light creeping in through the window. Hannibal licked his lips, watched as Will arched, whimpering, pleading with just his scent alone.

Hannibal ran his hand along one thigh, gripped it, pressed his palm to it and pushed them wider still, until he was situated between them, pressing the head of his cock against Will’s dripping hole, rubbing along it until the boy let out a choked sob.

“ _Please_ ,” he pleaded, and Hannibal pushed forward, inching his cock into Will’s waiting heat. The Omega gasped, spread his legs painfully wide, was tense until Hannibal was fully inside him, leaning over him as he sucked in a breathed and kissing his mouth, stealing it from him. The Alpha resisted the urge to rut, to thrust wildly, and rocked slowly, sweetly, drawing up a moan from the boy. He engulfed him, as Will wrapped his legs around his waist, rocking along with Hannibal, and the doctor groaned himself, his mind spinning wildly, leaving him dizzy.

He pressed his tongue between Will’s lips, coaxed his own to life as his chest rubbed along the Omega’s fevered skin. Will wrapped his hands around him, grasped at his shoulders and dug in with his blunt nails. Hannibal felt his skin giving, could picture the crimson crescents his boy was leaving behind, little marks of the Omega’s claim on Hannibal.

The Alpha’s stomach tightened over the idea- over how it coupled well with what he had promised to do for Will, for himself.

Will broke the kiss first, moaning, tossing his head as he tightened his hold on Hannibal with his legs. “H-harder,” he whimpered, “p-please.”

Hannibal pushed himself up, untangling from Will’s legs, and pushed his thighs up, hands resting on the back as he thrust into him harder, felt the boy trembling as his body was assaulted. Hannibal gasped, had to tell himself already to _contain himself_ , this had to last. There was pressure at the base of his spine already, and he gritted his teeth, willing it back.

Will threw his head back, arching his hips up off the mattress, pushing himself further onto Hannibal’s cock. Hannibal could smell the endless arousal on him, a burning sweetness that sank down into his body with each breath, rested in his belly and made him want the boy even more- made him forget his own body’s desire for release, thought only of Will, his darling and the way his body had a fire burning down to his core.

“ _Oh Hannibal_ ,” he breathed, reaching up to stroke his own cock, groaning as the Alpha continued to thrust into him. Hannibal found his frantic gaze, in the dark, held it for a moment as Will stared at him with a trust Hannibal was not used to seeing-

It was raw, raw as the underside of Will’s skin, nestled against vessels and muscle. Raw as the bone that hugged marrow.

Hannibal pulled out then, suddenly, and Will nearly screamed in frustration. He reached for the Alpha, pulling him up onto his knees and turning him, one hand on his hip as he thrust back inside before the Omega could make another sound. He wrapped an arm around Will’s waist, held him back against his chest as they rocked, as the boy’s cock bobbed up and hit his own belly, leaving a wet smear behind on the sensitive flesh.

Will mewled when Hannibal’s hand slipped lower, splayed along his belly, and Hannibal rocked his hips, pushing into Will, pressing his face into his curls and inhaling.

“Ready?” he whispered, placing a kiss to the back of his head, down to the crook of Will’s shoulder. The Omega was nodding, and Hannibal was sure he could barely fathom what he was saying, his body was simply seeking its endless release.

Hannibal kept one hand on Will’s belly, the other reached up, wrapping around his throat and holding him steady, loose enough that Will breathed with no difficulty but tight enough that the presence was obvious. The Omega’s nostrils flared as Hannibal mouthed at the back of his neck, kissed once, then opened his mouth wide, pressing his teeth in, sinking past flesh that gave, until his mouth had a faint copper taste. Will’s sudden cry framed the act, as Hannibal closed his eyes and let loose the torment inside his chest, the pressure of wanting this boy, let his pheromones seep around him, shock his hormones into such a riot that Will went tense for a moment, before he melted back, leaning into Hannibal.

Hannibal kissed the wound, whispering soothing words to Will, as the Omega tried to turn his head, his eyes heavy and cloudy. Hannibal grabbed his jaw, releasing his throat, and kissed his mouth, let him lick the blood from his teeth, let him try to grasp at Hannibal.

There was a pleasing tightness building in Hannibal’s chest, felt as if ghostly tendrils held him to the boy, laced them together. In that moment he could feel his fever, inside his own brain, could feel the release he craved, could feel how he needed it. He kissed Will one more time, then pushed him down, roughly, holding his hips up as Will’s face was pushed into a pillow again. Hannibal gave into everything his body craved, thrust with pure abandon into Will’s body, had the Omega screaming as his cock lay heavy, flushed like his cheeks, his neck. In the dark, Hannibal could just see the wound he had left, that would scar, a permanent reminder that they two were now one.

That Will was his, for life.

The Alpha held Will’s hips with bruising force, feeling fire in his belly, his spine, his chest- everywhere. He let it consume him, tossed his own head back and felt Will frantically grabbing at himself, stroking wildly and begging in broken pleas for Hannibal, for everything, for the relief he so desperately needed.

“William,” Hannibal breathed, felt the Omega tense- knew the use of a name no one had called him in _so long_ breathed excitement into him, made him feel owned like a child. “ _Cum for me_ , dear William.”

Will screamed then, sank his teeth into the pillow as Hannibal pushed into him, splashed his chest white as his body nearly convulsed around Hannibal. The Alpha groaned, felt his own body responding, his own orgasm _a breath away_. He pushed into Will as his last wave hit, felt the Omega’s body stretching, accepting the knot that had swelled at the base of his cock, as his own orgasm finally came, vibrated the marrow in his bones and dragged a feral growl from his throat.

Will moaned, Hannibal knew he could feel the heat, and gently he pushed his omega down, locking his arms around him and managing to get them into a relatively comfortable position on their sides. They would be locked together for a time, until Hannibal’s body relaxed enough that he could pull free of Will’s. Hannibal hoped that wouldn’t happen for a while- liked the feeling of the Omega around him, relaxing back into him, drowsy and gently squirming.

He placed a hand on Will’s belly, stroked and received a happy mewl, a low _hum_ seeming to reverberate inside his head, his Omega’s approval pulsing through their bond.

_His Omega_.

“How do you feel?” He whispered into Will’s curls, but got only a pulse of heat, of contentedness, a sleepy moan. He would sleep, for a time, and Hannibal would hold him through it. He had no intention of moving now, even when his body was released. He pressed his face into Will’s curls as the boy drifted, continued to stroke his belly and dared to give a brief fantasy to Alana’s prying question, dared to think that during one of Will’s heats his seed would take, that there would be life beneath his palm.

He chuckled to himself. Not this time, but perhaps someday. He had time now, time he vowed to use carefully with his Omega. He let his hand drift up, along Will’s arm, felt the scars beneath the ink and let his lip twitch, allowed himself to be angry for a moment that this precious boy had ever gone through a moment where he felt the need to cut his skin away, where he felt his body was not his.

_Never again_. Hannibal would teach Will to love himself, his skin and what his biology had given him, if it took the rest of his life.

_You have to earn him_. Hannibal felt he had earned him, now. Yet he would endeavor to work to _keep_ him, to give him a new existence in a world they would share until the city faded to red behind their eyelids.

_” Oh, it's not your gift to choose_  
I know you're going to lose  
Like me...  
Oh, this futile circumstance  
You never had a chance  
Like me...”  
“Red City” – Stone Sour 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to everyone for reading and giving me such positive feed back! I have to say, I think I'm rather taken with Omegaverse, I will definitely have to give it another go at some point c:

**Author's Note:**

> Remember you can find me on [Tumblr](http://madnizilla.tumblr.com/)!


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